


Part Of Your World

by Gryffindor_Winchester



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Alternature Universe, Angel Cas, Angst, Bottom Dean, Eventual Porn, Fairy Tale Retellings, Fluff and Smut, Little Mermaid, M/M, Romantic Fluff, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-12
Updated: 2015-04-08
Packaged: 2018-02-12 20:09:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 37,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2123112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gryffindor_Winchester/pseuds/Gryffindor_Winchester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Little Mermaid AU</p><p>As per angelic tradition, Castiel is given one day on Earth to spend among humanity. But he didn't expect to spend that day falling in love with Dean Winchester. </p><p>When Castiel returns to his post in heaven, he can't get Dean out of his head. He makes a deal. </p><p>Castiel has three days to make the man fall in love with him, or lose his grace.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Once upon a time, when the heaven’s were new and the ocean water were fresh, God created his angels. He loved these angels, almost as much as he loved his humans on Earth, and wanted them to experience the beauty of his creation. However, God was fearful to give them too much freedom on earth, as the beauty of it had torn his favorite son, Lucifer, away from him. With the pain of Lucifer’s loss, but the love of his spender both radiating in his heart, God made a compromise with himself. When an angel became of age, that is to say, one thousand years old, they would be granted one day on earth to experience it’s radiance, and then the angel would have to return to their post in heaven. This worked without flaw for millennium, until a sapphire eyed angel fell madly in love with an emerald eyed human. 

This is where our story begins. 

*** 

“Today’s the day, Cassy,” Gabriel smiled at his brother. “If you can beat my sex record I’ll tell Michael the human’s have figured out how to read Enochian.” 

“You know that isn’t the purpose of visiting earth, Gabriel.” Castiel’s was only able to hold his reprimanding look for a moment before his smile broke out again. 

“Tell you what, no matter what happens I’ll tell Michael the human’s can now speak Enochian.”

Castiel smirked and shook his head at his older brother, who had made quite the legendary trip to earth, almost revoking the entire trip for the younger angels. But after some convincing, and although Gabriel wouldn’t admit it, groveling, Castiel and his younger siblings had still been given the promise of a day among humanity. 

“I would start with Vegas,” Gabriel started, “And then probably fly to Singapore. And Ibiza. And Amsterdam - oh! - No start with Amsterdam, then Vegas, Miami…”  Castiel tuned out his brother as he gently flattened out the folds of his trench coat. His vessel seemed to have an affinity towards it, along with unkempt hair. It was Michael who had found Castiel his vessel, a devout man named Jimmy Novak who had prayed consistently to be of assistance to the Lord. Castiel supposed being a one-night-stand of sorts wasn’t exactly what Jimmy had hoped for, but it was an opportunity to help heaven none the less 

“And don’t do body shots off stripper’s who are covered in glitter, because it gets flakes on your tongue. But do play nice with any girl - or boy - you meet who has a food name; Sugar, Candy, Coco, you get my drift.” 

“Gabriel,” Cas reprimanded. “I’m ready.” 

Gabriel smiled fondly at Castiel. “Alright then, Little Brother. Let’s get you to Earth so you can mingle with the humans, huh.” With a wink and a nudge he guided Castiel to the edge of the cloud. Castiel stood over the earth in anticipation and took in it’s beauty, the blues of the seas, the green of the earth, the white of the clouds. He bristled his wings and began to fidget, waiting for the words that would send him to Earth. 

Gabriel unfolded an ancient scroll, one longer than the humans had even existed for, and began to read an old spell in Enochian. Castiel was too excited to focus on the individual words, but he was very aware of the beauty in which they flowed off Gabriel’s tongue. All of the ancient writings were beautiful, dictated by their Father and documented by Metatron. Castiel suppressed the bite of disappointment of Father not being the one to send Castiel to earth. But, he supposed, Gabriel was the next best thing. 

Gabriel finished reading the spell and snapped the scroll back up with a flick of his wrist. “Close your eyes, Cassy, and spread your wings. When you feel the earth beneath your feet you can open them, and your 24 hours will have started. You have until midnight.” 

Castiel shut his eyes and let himself fall off the cloud. He felt the cool air currents flowing over and under his wings, sending him this way and that. Castiel relaxed, and waited for the winds to take him where they may. 

***

When Castiel’s feet touched earth he was surrounded by corn. 

Corn for miles and miles, surrounding him in a sea of green and golden stalks, some even taller than he was. Castiel looked around him and couldn’t see any sign of a city anywhere. He chose to follow the road signs south, and started his walk along the hot black pavement. 

The moon shone brightly above the grid of corn, illuminating the empty road. He would have to compliment Gabriel on his beautiful craftsmanship. The moon was his domain, after all.  
Where there was finally a break in the corn, Castiel found himself facing a field of cattle and one excessively small horse. Castiel cocked his head at the tiny steed, wondering what such a small animal could possibly be useful for. The horses snorted and stomped his little feet at the strange man. 

“Easy, brother,” Castiel told it. The horse eyed him suspiciously as Castiel continued down the road. 

As Castiel continued to walk he felt the fatigue begin to work its way through the soles of his feet and up his legs. What strangely fragile creatures, humans are, he pondered. It was odd that Father had picked these to be his favorite. But, he supposed, that was why he was here. To learn why they were his favorite.

Castiel could practically hear his brothers and sisters chiding him for walking instead of just appearing in his destination. But, unlike them, Castiel had no destination. He hadn’t come to Earth for this day with a purpose, a goal. He walked to see where the twenty four hours would take him. Perhaps that’s what made him different than his holy siblings. 

As the moon slowly fell on this part of the earth, the the sun began to rise in its place, an infinite synchronization. At the end of the road Castiel could finally see a red roofed city. He stopped for a moment to rest his aching feet. This, Castiel decided, was a good place to start his day. 

Castiel walked until the skyline morphed from an imagine on the horizon to a city underneath his feet and over his head. Cars were beginning to pass him, each one swerving out of it’s way to avoid the dirty hitchhiker. 

“Get out of the fucking road, asshole!” A man in a red car screamed, throwing a styrofoam cup at Castiel. It hit the ground at his feet, the contents slashing up and staining his trench coat a hot black. 

Castiel stood still, offended and confused at this stranger’s hatred towards him. Was this, the cruel man, a member of the greatest of his Father’s creations? Were they all like this? Rude, coldhearted, and selfish? Castiel felt a wave of distain run through him. Surely, his Father would not have allowed him a day on earth to make him hate humanity. Today was a day to obverse their beauty, to fall in love with them. 

But in the deepest, most cynical parts of his brain, a voice said No wonder Lucifer hated them. Castiel fought of the ideas, his gut clenching with guilt at such thoughts. He just needed a little faith, he promised himself.

Castiel continued his way into the city, this time careful to stay to the side of the road. 

Welcome to Lawrence!

Castiel passed the welcome sign into the boundaries of the city. Lawrence, so it was called, was lovely in the early morning light. The sun backlight the congress of beige, red roofed buildings, offset from one another by trees. As Castiel walked through these buildings, young adults began to emerge from them. Some held coffee, some books, all rushing to another one of the buildings. 

He wondered through these buildings and continued downtown, finding himself on a very busy road, the sign reading: 

MASS. ST. 

Cars lined the streets of the adjoined old buildings. Signs began to flicker on and people had started to emerge in and out of the various buildings. 

A strange scent hit Castiel, causing a vibration and groaning to emanate from his stomach. A dull ache settled in his gut, a feeling Castiel found very uncomfortable. He looked around for the source of the smell, and it seemed to be coming most prevalently from a corner building called The Charcoal Pit. 

Castiel wandered up to the glassy front windows of The Charcoal Pit. A small sign hung over the door of the restaurant, right next to the white OPEN sign. 

Best food in Lawrence!  
\- KU Weekly 

The word “food” resinated with Castiel, and without haste hustled into the diner, settling himself at a booth in a corner. He sat with his back to the wall, facing the door of the diner. A smiling middle aged woman greeted Castiel with a cup of coffee.

“I’ll give you a few minutes to look over the menu, hun,” She smiled at him and walked away. Castiel opened the worn menu and scanned it, unsure of what he would like to eat.  
In the end, Castiel decided to have the “Morninglover’s Delight:” two eggs, sunny side up, a bagel, yogurt with granola, and a cup of fruit. 

While Cas waited for his food, he people watched. He watched the youngest waitress sneak a twenty out of the register. He watched over the shoulder of a middle aged man two booths up sit at his computer and transfer money from an account called “Business” into one called “Private.” He watched two boys outside knock a little girl’s backpack off her shoulder and then ran away laughing. He grew more and more distraught over humanity by the second. 

When the waitress brought out his trays of food, Castiel was happy for the distraction. He dug in, only to be pull away, repulsed by the liquid centers of his eggs. He wasn’t entirely sure about how humans preferred their food, but he was fairly certain it was supposed to be cooked thoroughly. 

He pushed the eggs aside and decided to focus on his other food. Castiel was picking apart his bagel - this, he decided, was marginally better - when the bell above the door chimed. 

A man in an olive green jacket and sandy blonde hair walked through the door. He stopped for a moment, surveying the diner. The man’s jade green eyes flickered to Cas, causing a wave of electricity spark in Castiel’s chest and travel to his gut. But the eyes were only on Cas a second before the man sat himself at the counter.

“Dean! Hey kiddo how you doing?” Castiel’s waitress beamed at Dean as she emerged from the kitchen. This smile, Castiel noticed, was much more genuine than the one she gave him. He could hardly blame her, though; this strange man even had an affect on the corners of Castiel’s mouth, pulling on them with invisible drawstrings from across the room. 

“Jody!” The man - Dean’s - voice was deep and affectionate, and Cas decided immediately that he liked the sound of it. Dean stood up to let the waitress hug him. “How you doing, old woman?” He grinned. 

Jody whacked him on the back of the head with the nearest menu, but Dean’s smirk just grew wider. Cas started at the smile, mesmerized. He had very straight, white teeth, and a soft mouth. Dean’s smile didn’t just pull on the invisible drawstrings, it yanked them, and Cas smiled down at his feeble breakfast. Had he looked up, he would have seen Dean glance over at the strange man in the trench coat. Dean took in the man, until Jodi stole his attention back. 

“You’re not allowed to call me old woman until I’m a day over 60, understand?”

“Yes ma’am,” He smiled cheekily. 

“Christ, Dean, that’s just as bad. Weren’t you just with Ellen? Didn’t she knock some respect into you?”

“I’m just teasing, Jody. You don’t look a day over 35.” He winked at her as she poured him a cup of coffee.

“The usual, I suppose? I bet you’ve been missing it,” Jody asked. 

“Nobody makes breakfast like you do, that’s for sure.”

“Coming right up, sweetheart,” Jodi patted the counter and walked back to the kitchen. 

Dean could sense the stranger’s eyes on the back of his neck, and it made his hair stand on end. But Dean stared ahead, sipping his coffee with decided, calculated motions, ignoring the burning trail the man’s eyes left on the back of his head that traveled down and settled to a simmering in his gut. 

Jody reemerged from the kitchen and leaned on the counter across from Dean. 

“So, ‘Winchester Bros. Annual Road-trip’ went well?” 

“Oh yeah, Sammy and I went south this year.” Dean’s face light up with excitement. “Went down to Texas, through New Mexico, Arizona, and Southern California. Then we looped up, stopped in Vegas for a couple days” He winked at Jody and she rolled her eyes in response. “Kept going north through Utah and Wyoming. Stopped in South Dakota to see Bobby and the gang, and now we’re back.” He sipped his coffee with a grin. “I wanted to drive up the West Coast but Sammy was all concerned with getting ready for class and blah, blah, blah, so we had to cut it short.” 

“Well, I’m glad you boys had a good trip,” Jody said. 

Dean’s demeanor got a little more serious. “I was kind of hoping by the time I got back, you’d be back on duty.” 

Jody smiled bitterly. “You and me both kid.” She shrugged, “But the diner’s nice. Family business, you know. And my sister can’t be bothered to handle the day-by-day stuff, so here I am. And I’m doing good,” She nodded reassuringly, and Dean accepted it. 

“Now let me make the rounds, and I’ll be back with your food.” 

Jody flittered around the restaurant, asking customers for refills or more food. She cashed out two and waved them on their way with to-go cups before coming back to Castiel. 

“Can I get you anything else, hun? More coffee? Check?”

“More coffee would be nice,” Castiel said, unwrapping his hands from the empty mug. Coffee, he decided, was a very enjoyable part of humanity. Much like Dean’s voice. “And, uh, the check.” 

“Coming right up,” Jody said. When Castiel looked away from her face his eyes met Dean’s for the second time. Fidgeting, Dean cleared his throat and looked away. Castiel stared at Dean a moment longer, then averted his gaze to the world outside. 

Jody placed the check on his table. “Whenever you’re ready, no rush.” 

“Thank you, Jody,” Castiel said sincerely.

Jody smiled uncomfortably, and turned to walk back to the counter. She went about her work until she heard Dean’s whisper. 

“Jody.” She turned. 

“Who’s Stare-y McTrenchcoat over there?” Dean jerked his head to Castiel’s corner. 

“I have no idea, he’s new. He does seem to be staring over here a lot, though. Maybe he likes you,” She winked at Dean, causing a bright pink to flush across his neck. 

“That’s not what I meant,” He stuttered. 

“Calm down kiddo,” Jody said, relaxed. “It doesn’t matter to me, either way. If he likes you or not, understand?” She asked, eyes saying much more than her words. 

Dean’s mouth hung open. If Sammy told her about the guy in Vegas I swear to God - 

“Earth to Dean,” she waved her hands. 

“Oh, yeah. Thanks, Jody,” He mumbled, jumping out of his thoughts.

Jody walked back to the kitchen and came back with his food, setting it down at his spot. “I gotta get back to work, kiddo. Holler if you need anything.” 

“Will do, thanks,” Dean smiled at her, trying to recover some of his dignity from the previous conversation. 

Dean tucked into his plate, and Castiel watched. Dean had a square, defined jaw that clenched every time he chewed. His posture was casual, arms and legs sprung all over the place. It was clear, even to a stranger like Castiel, that he was at home here. 

Castiel felt himself growing attached to this human, and it sent a wave of panic through his mind. The biggest rule of the twenty four hours was to mingle among the humans, but not to connect with one. He was already breaking that by becoming so fixated on Dean. He would have to leave, he resolved, pay his bill and travel to another part of the world. Maybe he would take Gabriel’s advice and visit Vegas. Dean seemed to have liked it as well…

Dean. 

Within seconds of deciding to forget Dean, Castiel was back on him. Leave, leave, leave, leave, Castiel chanted to himself. Leave, leave, leave.

But when Dean got up to pay his bill, Castiel followed suite. Dean gave a curt nod to Cas as he passed him on the way out of the restaurant. The current of electricity rumbled through him at Dean’s acknowledgement. 

Leave, leave, leave

Out on the streets, Castiel followed at a distance, making himself invisible to Dean. He glanced at the brick clock tower: 7:45. If Castiel only had less than 17 hours on Earth, he wanted to spend all of it with this enchanting human. 

Rules be damned.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for alcohol as a coping mechanism

Dean, as it turned out, did not have the adventurous day Castiel had in mind. 

He had heard the legends of humans; the tasks of Hercules, the voyage of Odysseus, the plight of Ramses. He had never heard of an average mortal, or of a common day on Earth. 

Castiel would have found it all dull and trite, had it not been for Dean. 

After his breakfast at the dinner, Dean jumped into a black car that stood out from the other cars on the street. Perhaps it was older, Castiel didn’t know. He drove to the outer edges of Lawrence to a shop with a parking lot four times the size of the building. A dirty white sign with red letters hung above the small building. 

WINCHESTER AUTO BODY

Dean sat in his car smiling at the store. “We’re home, baby!” He smacked the steering wheel with glee. Castiel cocked his head at the strange man. 

Was he talking to his automobile? 

Dean hopped out of the car and practically skipped to the front door. A bell chimed when he opened the front door, and a man perked up from behind the counter. 

“Garth!” Dean boomed at the sight of him. “Hey man, how ya doing?” 

Garth scrambled to pile up his magazines and went to hug Dean. Dean accepted the hug but pulled away almost instantly, squirming awkwardly. 

“Alright, alright, I was gone two weeks not off fighting in ‘Nam. No sissy stuff.” 

“We missed you around here, Dean,” Garth slapped him on the shoulder, a gesture Dean seemed much more comfortable with. 

“I’m surprise the damn place is still in one piece. I’ve never left her for so long,” Dean looked around critically, scanning the room for signs of disaster. 

“Everything ran smoothly. No catastrophic events,” Garth beamed in pride. He picked up a clipboard and handed it to Dean. “We’ve put the big jobs on hold for you so you have a couple restorations waiting out back. Besides that it’s been pretty run-of-the-mill around here.” 

“Thanks, dude. I’m on it,” Dean walked out the back door with the clipboard. He stood outside for a moment, flipping through the papers. Castiel watched the way Dean’s brow furrowed when he was thinking, and it spread a warm coziness through Castiel’s chest. 

Cute. 

The word projected itself unannounced across Castiel’s brain like a beacon. But despite the word’s unwelcome announcement, it was accurate. The angel grinned down. It was right; Dean was cute. 

Castiel smirked to himself. Although he didn’t know the man well, especially not as well as he would like, instinct told him Dean was not the type of man that response well to the word “cute.” 

Dean had resumed flipping through the papers and froze on one, mouth agape. He checked the parking spot number and then ran over to the car, letting out a long, slow whistle. 

Garth came up behind Dean. “We thought you’d like that one, boss. ’65 Aston Martin DB5. Cost well over a mil.” 

“This is the Bond car,” Dean’s voice squeaked a little, but Garth was courteous enough to ignore it. 

“Owner said it actually is one of the cars they used on set.” 

“Wow,” Dead said, voice throaty. “And what do they want me to do with her.” 

“They heard you’re a bit of a specialist. Make it run like new but keep it looking the exact same. And, uh-“ Garth squirmed a bit. “These are her words, Boss, not mine, but ‘if you fuck it up I’m coming for the blood of you, your children, and your children’s children.’” 

“Her?” Dean asked, unconcerned with the threat. 

“Yeah, name’s Ruby. Dropped it off with those instructions and said she’d be back in a few weeks. If I were her I wouldn’t have left this car in the hands of strangers, but I guess one million isn’t a big deal-“

“Got it, Garth. Thanks,” Dean cut off the rambling man. “I’ll get to work on her.” 

Garth nodded and walked back to the building. Dean ran two fingers over the hood of the car and whistled again. “You’re a pretty thing, if I had a million dollars to spare I’d make you mine.” 

From there Dean opened up the hood of the car and got to work. The man’s enthusiasm for his work radiated from his very soul and warmed Castiel’s heart with fondness for this human. Dean’s passion was contagious, and for the first time Castiel felt the first glimmer of affection for the humans. Perhaps they all had this spark. 

Castiel perched on the adjacent car to watch Dean. He liked the way Dean’s hands danced across the machinery of the car, how they worked with diligent precision and accuracy. For a time Dean’s hands disappeared into the engine, and when they reemerged they were covered in oil and grime. Dean wiped a hand across his forehead, causing a black smear to cover his brow. 

Castiel also enjoyed the way the muscles in Dean’s arms moved as he worked, one flexing over the other in a harmonious, almost liquid, fashion. And when Dean took off his gray tee shirt in the hot Kansas sun, the muscles in his back were certainly a sight to behold. They flowed over each other, moving smoothly like waves in the current. The muscles all seemed to travel down his spine and into a V at the small of his back. Perpendicular to this V were two small dimples on either side. Subconsciously, Castiel licked his lips. 

Watching Dean sparkled a slow simmering heat in Castiel’s abdomen, that grew hotter and traveled lower the more he watched the mechanic work. 

Castiel reached down to his pants to try and make more room for his groin, and gasped at the pleasure the soft pressure gave him. Dean jolted up at the sound, and Castiel froze. The man looked around skeptically, and upon finding nothing stuck his head back into the hood. Castiel breathed out a quiet sigh of relief. It was bad enough he was spending his day stalking this human, it would be worse if the human knew about it. 

When Dean’s sweat started to drip into his eyes, Castiel unfolded his wings, covering Dean with shade. The mechanic looked to the cloudless sky, but then continued his work without questioning it. He had never been one to look a gift horse in the mouth. 

The only break Dean took was to sit with his back against the car and eat a small sandwich he unwrapped from a brown paper bag. He took swig from a water bottle, and a bead of water dripped from the man’s mouth down his throat. Castiel pressed his eyes shut at the sight and bit his lip. 

After Dean was finished eating he slid under the car. Castiel didn’t have a very good view of his human then, and although he very much liked the way Dean’s knees bowed, he decided it was time for a break to stretch his wings. 

Castiel walked off the site of the auto body shop and into a nearby park. When he was confident no humans were around to see him, he spread his wings and arched his back. The silky black feathers expanded through the whole park, and Castiel had no doubt that they could go even farther if he pushed it. But this vacant space would have to do for now. 

While he gave his aching muscles some relief, he looked at his wings. Their normal shine was dulled, and the ends were more jagged than usual. It must be almost molting time. Castiel picked one dying feather off his wings - larger than that of an eagle - and let it fly off into the wind. 

“What the hell do you think you're doing?” Castiel jolted at the familiar voice from behind.

“Gabriel, what are you doing here?”

“No,” Gabriel walked towards him and stuck a finger at Castiel’s chest. “What are you doing here? I think you’re having the most boring day on Earth in angelic history.” 

“These days aren’t boring, they have beauty in them,” Castiel countered. 

Gabriel raised an eyebrow, his expression dripping with cynicism. “Come agian?” 

“I just mean to say that I thought the same as you, but the even ordinary here has beauty in it. Especially the humans,” His mind traveled to Dean. “You just have to find it.” 

Gabriel read the expression on Castiel’s face, his own thoughts traveling at the speed of stars. 

“You’re not,” The older angel demanded. 

“Not what?”

“You’re not falling in love with a human. You wouldn’t be that stupid, Castiel.” 

“That’s against the rules, Gabriel.” 

“I know you too well, Cassy, don’t think about lying to me.” Gabriel didn’t break his brother’s gaze. “You were always an idiot rebel, Little Brother.”

Castiel’s wings preened under the compliment, even though Gabriel hadn’t intended it as such. “I would never jeopardize this privilege, Gabriel.” 

“So you are!” Gabriel snapped his fingers. “You are falling in love with a human. Is it that dirty mechanic?”

Castiel’s blush revealed him. 

Gabriel crackled. “Well, who you have thought it would be you to fall in love with a human! My money was on Anna, she was always a hopeless romanic dumbass. But no, it’s the honorable Castiel!” 

Cas glared at his brother. “Don’t tell anyone. I have it under control.” 

“Doesn’t look like it,” Gabriel snorted, very pleased with himself for figuring the whole ordeal out. “Love is anything but controlled, Cassy.” 

“And how would you know that?” Castiel snapped. 

Gabriel’s eyes narrowed. “Look,” He started, voice cool. “I’m here to help. I’m not going to rat you out, and I’m not going to tell you not to do it. We both know how much a fan I am of saying fuck it to the rules.” 

Castiel couldn’t help but smile at his brother’s true words.

“But be careful. Odds are, the next time you’re ever on Earth. This human will be long gone. Is he really worth an eternity of pain and loneliness for one day?”

Castiel’s mind traveled back to his beautiful, passionate, kindhearted human. He wanted to say no, but the tightening in his heart betrayed him. 

“Yes.” 

Gabriel pursed his lips, but didn’t argue. “Alright, Cassy, do what you’ve got to do. I’ll make sure no one finds out what you’re up to. Just don’t actually involve the human, okay? That would be a fucking nightmare.”

Gabe took a step backwards. “Have a bite of that toned ass for me,” and with nothing but a quiet fluttering noise, disappeared, leaving Castiel alone to sort through the remaining 8 hours. 

***

Dean was sitting alone at a wooden bar, thumb circling the lip of his beer. Occasionally, he would go to take a swig, and then right back to tracing the opening and biting his lip. 

Castiel pondered the taught lines on Dean’s face, and what his human could be thinking of to cause such a stressful expression. He was being braver now, more reckless. Castiel sat on the bar, right next to Dean, less than three feet away. Castiel made sure Dean still wouldn't be able to see him, but if Castiel forgot to hide himself even for a moment he would be given away. 

But now Castiel could study Dean in more detail, the lines of his face, the different shades of blond in his hair. With every further inspection Dean became more beautiful, and the angel longed to reach out and touch him. 

Castiel was awakened from his daydream by Dean jumping off the barstool, hand coming too close to where Castiel sat. Dean reached out to hug a giant of a man, slapping him on the back as well. This was Dean’s third hug of the day, Castiel noted, and the only one he initiated. 

“Sammy,” Dean grinned, but his eyes were still panicky. “What’s up, Little Brother?” Castiel’s heart fluttered at the same term of endearment that Gabriel used on him. 

“Not much, since you dropped me off last night,” Sam smirked. “How was work?” 

“Eh, the usual. Except I got to work on an Aston Martin.” 

Sam’s eyebrows shot to the sky. “Really?”

“Oh yeah, she’s a beauty.” 

Sam ordered a beer and they sat quietly for a moment, before Sam spoke up. 

“Alright Dean, what do you want?”

“What?” Dean asked indignantly. “A man can’t call his brother to have a drink once in a while without an ulterior motive?”

“They can,” Sam rolled his eyes at Dean’s antics. “But not after they just spent two weeks locked in a car together. You need something, what is it?” 

Dean sighed and swallowed the rest of the beer. “I have a question,” His voice grew quiet, a struggle to get the words out. 

“Shoot.” 

“Did you tell anyone, about… About Vegas.” Dean didn’t look at his brother when he asked, but instead started down at the water ring his beer had left. His face looked pained at his words. 

“About you making out with a guy?” Sam asked. 

“Would you keep your frickin’ voice down?” Dean growled, throwing a look around the room to see if anyone had heard. 

Sam looked dumbfounded. “No, Dean, I didn’t.”

“Okay,” Dean fidgeted, “Good. Keep it that way.” Dean motioned for another beer while Sam stared slack jawed at his brother. But he waited until the bartender was gone to speak.   
 “Dean, I know you’re going through this like, gay-crisis, thing but you’ve got to stop. It’s okay if you likes dudes. And girls. Nobody will care.” 

“Dad will care,” Dean said. 

Sam grimaced, unable to disagree. “Yeah, that’s true. But Dad’s not here. And Dad’s an asshole.” 

“Don’t talk about our old man like that,” Dean snapped. 

Sam scoffed. “Dean, he’s your father and we both know he would treat you like shit if he found out. I think that we can at least go as far as to say he’s a dick.” 

Dean glared at his brother, but Sam just got more insistent. “Listen, Dean. You’re almost 30 years old. It’s time you came to terms with this. Who even cares what Dad thinks.” 

“I care,” Dean barked. 

They had reached a stalemate in the argument and both turned to their beers. Sam waited for Dean to take a few more sips before continuing. “Why do you ask, anyway?”

“Saw Jody today. Started implying some things. I wanted to know if someone was putting ideas into her head.” 

“Well, Dean,” Sam said slowly, almost condescending. “Maybe she saw you checking out a couple of guy’s asses and put two and two together.” 

“Enough,” Dean snarled, tone dangerous. 

“Have you heard from him, by the way?” Sam asked, after a long pause. 

“Who? Dad?”

Sam nodded. 

“Talked to him a few days ago. Said he should be back in town soon.” 

Sam narrowed his eyes at Dean. “You talked to him when we were together and didn’t tell me?”

“C’mone, Sammy. I waned to have a good trip. We both know that would have ruined it.”    
Sam snorted, “Right.” 

They both turned to face forward at the barn again, the silences growing more pronounced and more tense. Consistent with the previous conversations, it was Sam who broke it. 

“All right, well if that’s all I’m going to get out of here,” He said briskly, slapping a few bills on the counter. 

“See you,” Dean said flatly. Neither brother looked each other in the eye at the goodbye. 

Dean watched his brother walk out the large oak door, and the second it clicked shut, he had his hand in the air. 

“Whiskey, please.” 

Castiel watched in horror as Dean threw back shot after shot of whiskey until he was a garbling, incoherent mess. Castiel’s heart banged nervously at the war raging in his head; he wanted to stop Dean, to help him, but he knew better than to intervene. For the first time in hours Castiel checked his watch: 11:37. 

How had his day already disappeared? Did they all materialize into nothing?

How did the humans life like this?

Castiel drummed his fingers nervously on his thigh as Dean took in his ninth shot. He wasn’t an expert on human alcohol consumption, but he was fairly certain Dean had to be reaching a limit soon. 

“‘Nother!” Dean demand of the barkeep, who merely raised his eyebrows in a feeble attempt to dissuade him. But Dean waved the shot glass around and was obliged, drowning his tenth shot. 

Dean smiled stupidly forward, oblivious to the goings-on around him. Had he been more coherent, he would have said hello to his old friend and owner of the bar, Benny, who had stopped in to check up on the place. 

“How much has he had?” Benny asked the bartender, nodding at Dean. 

“Enough,” He responded curtly. 

Benny sighed, and recalled the days when it was he and John sitting at barstools, getting blackout drunk. But while he had decided to put his alcohol consumption to good use and make a business out of it, John spent the rest of his life going on benders and disappearing for months at a time. 

“Hey, Dean, how you feelin’?” Benny approached Dean. 

“Benjamin!” Dean cheered and stood to grip his friend’s shoulder, but had to cling desperately to the bar for support instead. 

“How about I give you a lift home?” Benny asked. 

“Got baby,” Dean jiggled his keys in front of Benny's face, reminiscent of a toddler. 

“I see that, but Baby’s gonna have to spend the night here. You’re no good to drive, my friend. Give me the keys.”

Dean glared at his friend before almost immediately breaking out into a wide grin. “Okay, but youuuuu take good care of her!” He wagged his finger at Benny. 

“She’ll be at your house tomorrow, in mint condition,” Benny soothed and reached behind the bar to pull out a water bottle. “Drink this,” He commanded to Dean, “And wait here while I check the register.” 

But Dean, as it seemed, was far from a compliant drunk. He waited until Benny’s back was turned at the other side of the bar before staggering towards the front door and out into the cool August night. 

Castiel jumped off the bar, practically tripping over over his wings in the haste to not leave Dean unattended. Outside, he saw Dean walking away from the bar and down the road. Castiel followed on foot, and it occurred to him that, despite his day of stalking, he didn’t know where Dean lived. And he didn’t have confidence that Dean knew where Dean lived. 

“Who say’s you can’t go home,” Dean sang to himself, using the bottle as a make-shift mic. He stopped to take a swig, spilling it down the front of his red plaid shirt. “Aww, fuck.” He whined. 

Castiel smiled in spite of himself at Dean’s pout. Dean tried to wipe up the spill with the corner of the jacket, but seeing his mission as futile, continued down the road without concern. 

Cars passed, each one causing Castiel’s gut to wrench with worry that they would plow into Dean. He grew easier as he saw car after car consistently pass his drunken human in a straight line, but he was far from relieved. 

“Just a hometown boy, born a rolling stone!” Dean resumed singing, his off key baritone blasting into the Kansas night. “Man, Bon Jovi rocks,” Dean said to himself. He paused, then countered, “But only occasionally.” 

Castiel couldn’t control the wide smile that cracked across his face, nor the heartfelt laugh that grumbled up from his belly at Dean’s comments. But when his human turned around and looked Castiel directly in the eye, the angel became very aware that, in his moment of happiness, had neglected to hide himself from Dean.

“You!” Dean waved his bottle at Cas. “You’re the pretty guy from earlier!” 

Castiel was frozen. The internal battle that had been raging all day between revealing himself to Dean and following orders was finely won, not by choice, but carelessness. 

Castiel stared at Dean, with his happy-go-lucky, intoxicated smile. He could disappear now, he could hide himself from Dean. He could spend his last few minutes on earth away from this human, a last ditch effort to repair the damage done by Dean just seeing Cas appear behind him on a road. Castiel could control himself, just for these few remanding moments. 

“Hello, Dean.” 

In hindsight, Castiel thought, it made sense that it was this moment he wasn’t focused on the cars driving by. 

As the two stared at each other, a very drunk man in a navy blue pickup truck swerved first over the centerline, and then onto the shoulder. Castiel’s eyes broke away from Dean to see the headlights raging, too fast and too close for Dean to move. Dean’s smile fell as he saw the headlights reflected in the angel’s widened eyes. 

Castiel threw out his wings, just not quite quick enough. The truck smacked into Dean’s back with a sickening crunch of bones. But before Dean could fly off the impact, Castiel’s black feathers cradled his human, saving him from further damage. 

The pickup roared down the road, unconcerned with the life it could have just stolen. Castiel panted and placed Dean on the soft grass by the road. Blood soaked the road and dripped off his wings as Castiel knelt down by Dean’s head. 

Dean looked up and groaned in pain. His legs were bent at an unnatural angel as the blood from his back leaked into the grass. 

“Dean, Dean,” Castiel grabbed his human’s face. Dean looked up at Castiel, very aware despite the pain of the bright sapphire eyes staring down at him. They held the gaze for a second before Dean couldn’t bear it anymore, and he screamed in pain. Dean let out a heavy breath, and then passed out. 

Castiel got to work on Dean placing hands on different injuries, and muttering spells in Enochian to heal them. He was snapped from his work by a quick, high pitched beeping emanating form his wrist. 

One minute. 

He wouldn’t have time to heal everything that needed to be healed. Castiel scanned Dean quickly, looking for the biggest injury. He placed his hand’s on the bloody gouges on Dean’s back from the bumper. Bones could be healed, but he couldn’t risk Dean bleeding out, especially from internal injuries. 

A car screeched to a stop up by the road and an olive skinned, black haired woman leaped from the drivers seat. Castiel muttered the words faster, finally finishing the spell. He looked at Dean’s back; it was black and blue with bruises, but it was closed, and so were the organs that had suffered so much damage as well. 

Castiel took a step back and allowed himself one last look at Dean. A thin line of blood trickled out of his soft mouth, and there were small cuts lining his defined face. But, Castiel thought as he looked at his broken human, Dean was still beautiful. 

Castiel felt his pull back to heaven, like a magnet, and knew his time was up. He looked down at his hands quickly disappearing, and he knew they would materialize again in heaven. He looked up again to see the woman reach Dean, cell phone to her ear and hands on his wrists, checking for a pulse. 

Then Castiel was gone, pulled back up to heaven with his brother’s and fathers. The woman looked up at where he had stood and saw nothing. She could have sworn she saw a man there a second ago, but perhaps it was just her adrenaline playing tricks.

“Yes, 911, I have a man hit by a car I need a paramedic unit immediately…” Her mine was pulled from the strange man to the emergency at hand, and she never gave the angel a second thought. 

Up in heaven, Castiel’s cry of anguish resonated so loudly, it could be heard by all the angels and the demons in Hell. He fell to his knees, staring down at his human on earth as a group of men and women loaded him into a red ambulance. 

Heaven and Hell seemed to pause, as Castiel mourned for Dean Winchester.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the support! 
> 
> Next chapter to be posted in a few days


	3. Chapter 3

“He’s not dead, you know,” Gabriel says, tossing a moon rock casually from one hand to the other.

“I know,” Castiel replies solemnly. He looks down from his perch at the edge of a cloud at Dean; this spot had been his vantage point as of late. It was secluded and he could watch his human in peace. 

Nobody had spoken yet of the fiasco that was Castiel’s day on Earth; how he disobeyed all orders on not growing attached to humans, on not making his presence anything extraordinary, and certainly not saving their lives.

But the storm would come. Michael would make sure to that. 

In the meantime, Castiel was spending his days keeping a watchful eye on Dean. Aiding in the human’s recovery was not the task Castiel had anticipated; in fact, the other humans seemed to have it under control. 

The woman who had pulled her car to the side of the road seemed to be a nurse, and she was taking a personal interest in aiding Dean’s recovering. Castiel fought off the fiery knife of jealously that flared in his chest whenever she gazed at Dean for a little too long, or stroked his cheek in a feeble cover for checking his temperature. Jealousy was a vice that had overcome Lucifer, it would not take Castiel as well. 

Gabriel sighed dramatically, a loud enough noise to pull Castiel’s eyes away from his view of Dean. 

“I know more than you think I do, Little Brother,” Gabriel says, irked. 

“What do you mean?” Castiel tilts his head sideways. 

“C’mone, dumbass. I know you’re wasting away up here, pining over that human. I know maybe I could have given you better advice on how how to avoid that nasty falling in love nonsense. But I didn’t. And now you’re miserable and I hate to see it, okay?”

“What do you want, Gabriel?” Cas asks. 

“Michael sent me.” 

Castiel’s stomach bottoms out and his wings bristle on instinct. He takes a deep breath, a feeble attempt to slow down his racing heart, and speaks slowly. “Does Michael wish to see me?” 

“What do you think? Of course he does. And I can tell you everything he’s going to say, and give you my advice.” Castiel watches as Gabriel’s lanky, casual posture stiffens and becomes serious. 

“Run.” 

“What?”

“Run,” Gabriel repeats. “Get out of heaven, go to earth, run away.” 

“Gabriel, be serious.” 

“I am, Cassy.” Gabe walks towards his younger brother. His voiced was hushed and quick, but very clear, “Do you know the difference between death for an angel and death for a human?”   
Cas shakes his head. 

“When an angel dies, they become stardust, constellations, galaxies. You become a part of the universe you helped to create. When a human dies they have three places to go; heaven, hell, or to stay on earth. None of them become stars, Little Brother.” 

“I don’t understand what you’re trying to say, Gabriel,” Cas whispered back. 

“A human will never be an angel, but an angel can become a human,” Gabriel looks expectantly at Cas, like he should have understood by now. 

They stared at one another while the words sunk into Castiel. 

“You want me to become human?” He questions, dumbfounded. “But I would have to give up my grace. Forever. Why would you tell me to do that?” 

“The only way you can ever be with that human is if you’re one of them. Besides, heaven is going to the dogs. Get out of here while the going’s good, before the shit show hits the road,” Gabriel jokes, but his eyes tell a different story of severity and somberness. Castiel and Gabriel both knew there was trouble brewing in heaven, and neither wished for it to unfold. 

“Angel’s do not just turn off and on their graces, Gabriel. If I were to do that I could never go back.”

“But would you want to?” Gabriel leers. “Seventy years of sucking off handsome there seems better to me than a millennium of watching Michael shove the lightening bold farther and farther up his ass.” 

Castiel hangs his head. “What if he doesn’t love me back?” 

The words come out in a tone far more timid than Gabriel had ever heard out of Cas. He appraises the younger angel; the half molted black wings, so different from the other angels with their virgin white or silky cream. From the time Castiel was born he had an indisputable spark to him, one that glowed deeper and brighter than any of their other brothers or sisters. It was the same glow the humans had, the aura Castiel had loved so much on earth. Castiel was already so much more like the humans than he would ever know. 

“But what if he does?” Gabriel grins. 

Castiel looks up, sapphire eyes filled with longing, clinging to the words Gabriel spoke. 

What if.

What if Dean loved him. 

Would having Dean love him be worth losing paradise? Losing heaven? 

Castiel had hardly sorted the thought before his brain started screaming back at him; yes, yes Dean loving you is worth ever sacrifice in the cosmos. 

“What’s heaven without love, Cassy?” Gabriel says softly. 

The blue eyes harden and his shoulders square in resolve. “I want to do it,” Castiel announces, his bobbing Adam’s apple the only tell of his trepidation. “But how?”

Gabriel smirks, “I know a guy.” 

***

This, Castiel decides, is a very bad idea. 

A very, very bad idea. 

The kind of bad ideas that got Adam and Eve kicked out of the garden, or Abel killed, or Esau’s blessing stolen. 

“Stop that infernal fucking bouncing, Cassy,” Gabriel snaps at his fidgeting brother. 

“I find I’m increasingly anxious,” Castiel narrates and, as an afterthought, “You also shouldn’t swear.” 

Gabriel rolls his eyes and leans back against the park bench. Castiel notices how his big brother starts to jiggle his knee, but doesn’t comment. 

“This could get us kicked out of Heaven, you know,” Castiel hisses. “What if word gets out two of Father’s sons are conspiring with a demon?” He spits the word out like it burns his tongue.

“Isn’t getting kicked out of Heaven what you want?” Gabriel snaps. 

“I don’t find that terminology to be accurate,” Castiel replies. “Besides, what if it doesn’t work? Or what if you get caught?”

“If I get caught then I spend the rest of my days with my head up a beautiful woman’s skirt, hands up another’s, and one more sitting on my lap.” 

Castiel grimaces at his brother’s visuals. 

“And it’s going to work,” He adds. 

They sit in silence. The muggy air stands still as the first hints of morning light peak through the trees. Castiel shuts his eyes and feels the vibrations of the atoms around him. Each one seems louder than normal, screaming that this is foolish, an ill-conceived, irrational idea that will only end in pain. 

But here he sits, unmoving in his resolve. 

“This is an irrational idea, Gabriel,” He airs only a sliver of his feelings. 

“Love is irrational, Cas. Of course this is a bad idea! That’s the name of the game, kiddo.” He claps Cas on the back and whips a pocket watch out. “My guy is late,” He complains. 

“Forgive me, I just gave a doctor 25 years to find the cure to cancer,” A graying Scottish man speaks from the darkness, several feet away. “Hope my humanitarianism didn’t disrupt your schedule.” 

Castiel jumps to his feet at the sudden appearance of the man. Gabriel merely rolls his eyes again. 

“Who are you?” Castiel demands. 

The man holds his hands up in mock surrender. “Name’s Crowley, I’m the King of Hell.” He extenders a hand to Castiel. “And you are?”

“Castiel, I’m an Angel of the Lord.”

“Pleasure,” Crowley grins. 

Castiel narrows his eyes, defenses rising even further. “You’re polite, for a demon. Gabriel, why is he being polite?” 

Gabriel shrugs, unconcerned. 

“And you’re rude,” Crowley quips, not missing a beat. “For an angel.” He smirks at Castiel’s offended face, and leans against a lamppost. “Besides, you catch more flies with honey than vinegar, or whatever,” 

“And I’m Gabriel, a jackass of my own accord,” Gabe interrupts. “Now that we’re all familiarized, can we get down to business?”

“Fine,” Crowley says with sass. “Who’s got an angel soul for sale? Going once? Twice?”

“You didn’t say I would have to sell my SOUL?” Castiel hisses at Gabriel. 

“I didn’t think you would have to-“ Gabriel defends himself, only to be cut off by Crowley. 

“Easy, boys, I’m only kidding. I’m not interested in angel souls, only human. I am, however, looking for your grace.” His eyes gaze over the two for their reactions. 

Castiel considers this. “That’s fare,” He decides, after a moment. 

Crowley's eyebrows jump to the sky in surprise. “Fair? I’m taking away what makes you, you, and you say its fair?” 

“I don't have much else to give you, my grace seems to be the most reasonable request,” Cas explains. 

Crowley claps his hands. “Well, I’m not one to look a gift horse in the mouth. Let’s get going, then.”

“No,” Gabriel interjects. “You’re not going to trick us that easily, you ass. What else?” 

“Oh, you’re asking to see the fine print?” Crowley pulls a scroll out of his jacket, which falls to the ground and rolls all the way over to Castiel’s feet. “Well there is the whole matter of, how once I take Castiel grace, the entire arsenal of Heaven will be upon me, and how I have to ensure my own protection. For your sake of course, to keep the deal alive,” He winks at Castiel. 

Cas picks up the bottom of the scroll, which requires his signature. His eyes scan the last few lines, but the words don’t stick. When he looks up, Crowley is extending a feather quill. 

“What do you require for protection?” He asks. 

“Let’s see,” Crowley’s face screws up in false concentration. 

“Get to the point,” Gabe barks, and the demons eyes fall harshly on the older angel. Gabriel stands his ground and doesn’t blink until Crowley’s eyes are back on Cas. 

“The way I figure, I’ll only be able to hide from those big brothers of yours for a few days before they track me down, no matter how hard I try. So, I’m using you as a bargaining piece.”

“You’re holding me ransom?” Cas asks. 

“Essentially, yes.” 

“How will that work?” Gabriel asks. 

“You see, I’ll need a scapegoat. Which is you, love. In addition, I’m very interested in making Michael’s life a living hell. So I’m going to put a spell on you - say, three days - where only I will be able to track you. I only need to hide from Michael until our deal is complete, after that he isn't legally allowed to hurt me. But while the deal is still incomplete, he can do whatever he likes. Especially if his actions can stop said deal from occurring.”

“How do I compete the deal?” Cas asks. 

“Make the charming Winchester fellow fall in love with you,” Crowley explains. 

Cas gulps. “And what if he doesn’t?”   
“Then you spend a millennium walking Earth, without Prince Charming, and at the end of that you become a soldier of mine in Hell.” 

“That’s horseshit,” Gabriel counters. “He should get his grace back and we act like nothing happened. That’s fair.”   
Crowley laughs. “You’re making a deal with the King of Hell, boys. It’s only as fair as I make it.” 

Cas sighs. “What happens if Dean does fall in love with me?”

“I keep your grace, you spend the rest of your life in blissful fairytale love with handsome, and die like a normal human.” 

Crowley pauses before continuing, “Do we have a deal?”

Castiel nods and reaches out to take the quill from Crowley, who draws back.

“Ah! Forgot one thing. You’re not to mention this whole, I’m-an-Angel-who-made-a-deal-with-the-King-of-Hell-to-get-here, thing. At least until the three days is up. At the risk of sounding unavoidably sentimental, we want him to fall in love with you, not with his supernatural kink fantasy.”

A new fear strikes Castiel. “What if three days ins’t enough time to fall in love?”

“That’s a gamble you’re going to have to take, love.”

Cas looks over to Gabriel for confirmation, who gestures nonchalantly, and back to Crowley. He takes the quill and signs his name. Crowley snaps the scroll back up so quickly Cas barely finishes the L.

“Oh, and I seal all my deals with a kiss,” Crowley says casually, a smirk plastered across his face. 

“I don’t want to do that,” Castiel retorts. 

“I assume since I’m putting you on Earth for a man you’re not homophobic. So what, does my breath smell?” Crowley breathes into his hand. 

Gabriel sighs loudly. “Fuck, could you two hurry up? Michael is going to notice we’re missing soon, and I wanted to lay low for a few days too. Best to get a head start now.” 

“As soon as I get my kiss,” Crowley shrugs. 

Castiel glares at the demon and takes a begrudging step forward. Crowley shuts his eyes and opens his hands, “I’m waiting.” Very quickly, Castiel pecks the demon on the lips. After Castiel pulls away, the sensation of the cold, chapped lips against his own remains. He rubs a palm against his mouth, an attempt to erase the kiss.

“There, that wasn’t so bad, was it Castiel?” Crowley opens his eyes. 

“Now what?” Cas asks flatly.

“Now I must bid you both adieu,” Gabriel speaks up. “I’m going to hide out for a couple days in some of the sexiest cities on earth. Later, demon shit,” He waves at Crowley, who winks in return. 

Gabriel extends his arms to pull Cas into a tight hug. “I’ll keep my eye out,” He whispers so quietly Castiel can hardly make the words out himself. 

Gabriel pulls away and punches Castiel on the shoulder to negate the heartfelt moment. “Bye, loverboy.” He disappears, leaving Crowley and Cas alone. 

“Now what?” Castiel repeats. 

“Now I take your grace, love.” A cruel sneer spreads Crowley’s lips, parting his teeth into a snarl. 

“How?” 

Crowley draws a long, silver blade out of a pocket near his chest. The shiny metal glints at the first hint of the day’s light.   
 Castiel doesn’t hide his gulp as well as he would like. 

“Give me your neck,” Crowley commands. Obediently, Castiel tilts his head, revealing his Adam’s apple to this enemy. 

“This will only hurt for a second,” Crowley says, and slashes at Castiel’s throat before the angel has time to brace himself. It only takes a second for Castiel’s nerves to register the injury and send a panicking message to his brain. He squeeze his eyes shut and rides out the pain. 

Crowley draws up his brow, waiting for Castiel’s shout of pain, but it never comes. Again, he reaches into the endless jacket and pulls out a small vile. He begins to whisper the ancient black magic, and Castiel’s fluorescent blue grace spills out of his neck and into the container. 

Crowley smiles once he has drained the last drop out of the angel. Graces, he muses, are a peculiar thing. They looks like air but move like water. He holds the vile at eye level mesmerized by the beauty of it, the pure creation. With a satisfied huff he tucks the grace away. 

“Open your eyes, Castiel,” He speaks quietly. “You’re one of them now.” 

When Castiel opens his eyes, Crowley is gone, and so is the park around him. The angels looks around to find himself on an all-too-familiar street. He breathes in the cool Lawrence air and tries to ignore how heavy his chest feels without its grace. He turns around to face the graying white of The Charcoal Pit’s front. Inside, he sees to his immediate delight, are Dean and Sam. Sam throws his mop of hair back and laughs, and from Dean’s satisfied look, at one of his brother’s jokes. 

Dean grins happily at Sam’s guffawing and raises a porcelain mug to take a drink. Moments after it touches Dean’s lips, the cup is plummeting onto the checkered floor, and shatters into thousands of tiny shards. 

Castiel looks up from the fallen mug to it’s owner. 

Slack jawed, Dean stares back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience in this chapter. Since the last one was posted I went through a move and my classes resumed. Next chapter should be up more promptly. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

Castiel freezes under the locked gaze of his human. 

Inside the restaurant, Sam makes a fuss over Dean’s destroyed cup. Jodi rushes over to start mopping up the mess, and Dean breaks Castiel’s gaze to shoo her away. When he looks back, Cas is gone. 

Dean jumps up from his seat and rushes out the front door. He looks frantically from side to side and - luckily - since Lawrence was not bustling area at 7 o’clock on a Thursday morning, he sees the tail end of a trench coat disappearing around the corner. 

With instant preceding logic, Dean chases after the stranger into a small sculpture park a block away from the diner. 

“Dude, wait!” Dean yells after the stranger. Castiel slams to a halt at Dean’s command, and turns to face him. Cas swallows, Adam’s apple bopping up and down at this throat. 

“Uh,” Dean stutters. His plan had only extended to chasing down the stranger, not talking to him. “Hey?” He offers. 

Castiel cocks his head at the casual greeting, “Hello?”

Fuck, Dean thinks, I’m a fucking idiot. 

There was no way this could be the same man he thought he saw at the crash. There was no way. Lisa would have noticed, and the paramedics had said no was around, he rationalized.  
But there were the blue eyes that had been haunting his dreams for nearly a month now. 

The eyes that had hovered above him and given Dean his life back. 

The eyes that were supposed to belong to Lisa - the sexy, smart nurse who happened to be in the right place at the right him, his savior - but didn’t. 

“Um,” He stammered again before extending a hand. “Dean Winchester.” 

A warmth spread to the blue eyes in front of him that diluted the settled panic. “Hello, Dean,” the stranger grins. “I am Castiel -”

Castiel’s words froze, unable to complete the sentence. His eyes search frantically for a solution while he simultaneously cursed his human mind for being so dull in comparison to his angelic one. 

NOVACK EYEGLASSES AND REPAIRS, a sign perpendicular to the park reads. 

“Castiel Novak,” he reaches out to shake hands. Dean’s palms are warm and rough, matched size for size with Castiel’s own. He looks up to see Dean’s eyes flicker down to their joined hands, before the emeralds pop back up to meet his own. 

“Nice to meet you, Cas” Dean nodded. 

Castiel’s face breaks out into a smile of utter and absolute joy at the nickname, and Dean instantly beams back at him. They smile stupidly at each other, neither speaking as the try to internally piece together everything the want to say. 

That’s how Sam finds them. 

“What the hell, Dean?” The younger Winchester demands, hair still bouncing moments after he stopped running. 

“Hey, Sammy,” Dean snaps out of his trance. “This is Cas. Cas, my brother Sam.”   
“Pleased to meet you,” Sam smiles warmly. Cas takes his hand and shakes it; it’s large like Dean’s, but softer. Cas finds he likes the gruffness better. 

Sam eyes them both. “How do you two know each other?” 

Dean licks his lips and looks back and forth between them. “Cas here is, uh, an old college buddy.” 

Castiel turns his head to the side - like a goddamn puppy, Dean thinks - and one of Sam’s eyebrows skyrocket into the depths of his hair. Fortunately, neither of them pushes the question further.

“So you’re in town for the wedding, then?” Sam turns again to Cas.

“Wedding?” 

“Yeah, Dean’s wedding? To Lisa?” Sam stutters and looks back at Dean for an explanation. 

Dean fidgets uncomfortably. “Uh, I hadn’t gotten around to telling Cas yet. Just saw him, remember?” 

Castiel stares at Dean, and Dean shifts under the perpetuating cobalt gaze. Cas breaks away from Dean and stares at the grass. This is foolish, he thinks, Dean owes you nothing. 

But what an idiot he was, how foolish to assume Dean had no one - no love in his life. Of course Dean had to be loved. Castiel had seen how deeply Dean loved after one day in his presence, and it made too much sense that Dean would have someone who returned that love. On a universal scale of give and take, it all became equal; for a human to love as much as Dean Winchester did, he must get some in return. 

Cas bit his lip; what an asinine idea it was to believe that he would waltz in and have Dean fall in love with him. How naive he had been. 

But knowing the logic didn’t make it hurt any less. Cas stared at the grass and took several slow breaths, for if he were spoken too at that moment, he wasn’t confident his voice would be steady. 

Meanwhile, Dean shifts his weight from foot to foot. Guilt dissipates through his blood and weights down heavily, like molten lead. He rubs the heated skin at the back of his neck. He shouldn’t feel like a traitor. Even if this was the same man he saw at the wreck - which is was most definitely, probably, not - Dean owed that man nothing. A thank you, yes, and a beer, maybe, but certainly nothing more than that. Regardless, the hovering sense of betrayal rose and settled itself in red blotches on Dean’s cheeks. He shot Cas a look from under his blonde eyelashes to gauge the other man’s reaction - but Cas merely kicked at the dirt. 

Sam stared at the cutting, and yet unspoken, tension between his brother and this stranger that was unfolding in front of him. It wasn’t that the younger Winchester didn’t want to ask what the hell he was watching; he just had no idea how, or where to begin. 

Instead, Sam cleared his throat. 

This broke the two from their thoughts, and suddenly four very emotional eyes were directed at him. 

“So, Cas,” Sam stared slowly, as if speaking to an panicked animal. “If you’re not here for the wedding, I assume you’re just passing through town? Do you have a place to stay?”

Cas shook his head. “No, I plan on staying a few days, but I hadn’t made prior arrangements.” 

In a moment of unfailing little-brotherhood, Sam jumped on the chance to make Dean squirm like he currently was. “Well, we can’t have that. You can stay with Dean!” He grinned cheekily. 

Dean threw him a glare, and Castiel turned to Dean with large, hope-filled puppy dog eyes. 

“Uh, I’m sure Lisa would be willing to accommodate. You know, guests.” Dean muttered.

“Great,” Sam claps his hands together. “I’d offer you to stay with me, but I’m afraid I don’t have enough room.” 

“Yeah, that’s what you get for being a 21 year old living in a dorm,” Dean snaps. 

“I’m an RA, Dean. I save ten thousand dollars a year doing that.” 

Dean rolls his eyes and grumbles at his baby brother under his breath. “All right,” He quips. “Cas, you’re staying in the guest room. As for you,” He turns to Sam. “If Lisa throws a cow about having unexpected guests so close to the wedding, I’m coming for you.” 

Sam raises his hands in surrender. “Fair enough.” 

Dean sighs and looks at Cas. “You got a bag, Cas?”

Cas shakes his head. 

“Seriously? No bag? Alright, well let’s get you home and then we’ll figure your clothes out. That trench coat looks like it needs a washin’.” 

 

***

“Honey, I’m home!” Dean chimes as they walk through the front door, drawing out the O. Cas looks around the humble, but nice, two story house. The light woods and pastel walls compliment each other nicely, and various flowers sit strategically placed in pretty painted pots on nearly every counter. 

It’s nice enough, Cas muses. But it doesn’t seem to fit Dean. 

Needs more leather. 

Definitely more leather. 

“And I brought a guest!” Dean adds on, striding through the house. 

“Oh good, I didn’t know my brother would be in town this early! If you could get him a-“ A woman’s voice sounds from another room, cutting off as she rounds the corner to face Dean and his guest. 

Cas’s stomach drops.  
 She was beautiful. 

“Cas, this is Lisa. Lisa, Cas.” Dean introduces them. 

“Ca- Cas is it? Hi,” Lisa trips over her words. “I’m sorry, you caught me off guard. I was expecting family only,” Cas doesn’t miss the sublet glare she throws as Dean, who shrugs it off. 

“I’m sorry to intrude. I’m Dean’s old,” He pauses and looks to Dean for reassurance. The older Winchester nods, his jade eyes growing wide in a silent “please.”

“-Old college friend.” Cas finished. 

Lisa smirks. “College?” 

“Hey,” Dean yaps, “It was college. We had books, we went to class, we did beer pong. College.” 

“It was two year associates degree at a community school,” Lisa counters. 

“Still college,” Dean grumbles. Maybe Cas was just extra sensitive on all matters-Dean, but he couldn’t help but notice the wall the other man’s voice grew more reserved. Hurt, perhaps. 

“It was definitely the college experience,” Cas lies for the second time that day. One side of Dean’s lip curl up into a half smile, and Cas swells with pride. 

Lisa shrugs, black hair gliding off her shoulder and settling on her back. “If you say so. Anyway, Dean - I have a question about the order you want your family seated at our table.” 

She drags Dean into the kitchen and sets him in front of the paperwork covered island. Cas watches as she shows him several variations of the same basic seating arrangement, and how they could strategically place various guests. 

“I just want Sam next to me,” Dean sighs. Lisa huffs, and continues on to the schedule for the wedding day. 

Cas blocks out talk of the wedding - it had started to make him nauseous - and retreated into his head. It was a coping tactic from years of blocking out heavenly arguments.

Cas noticed the similarities of this room compared to the foyer. Again, it was the same lightwood complimented by pastel colored paints. The walls were decorated in black and white photography, all of which seemed to be centered around exotic places. The largest picture was an angled shot of the Eiffel Tower, with the words “amore” written below. Cas made a note to ask Dean if he had ever visited Paris. 

Although Cas couldn’t see Dean’s appeal to the house, he could see the appeal to the woman inside it. She was very beautiful; olive skin offset by stunningly straight white teeth that appeared each time she smiled. Her black hair hung aimlessly around her delicate face and fell into loose curls around her shoulders. Then, besides her face - something Cas was forced to consider each time she bent over the counter - was Lisa’s stunning sex appeal. She wore a casual plaid button up too large for her, obviously one of Dean’s. Underneath that was a tight fitting white tank top which displayed the top of her breasts. Finally, there were the yoga pants. Cas didn’t miss how Dean’s eyes followed the word “PINK” across the room while Lisa walked to the fridge. 

She was what Gabriel would lovingly coin, “A hot piece of ass.” 

“Cas?” Lisa had repeated his name several time before Cas came to. “Do you want a drink?”

“Oh, no thank you.” 

“I’ll take a beer,” Dean chirped. 

Lisa checked her watch, a gesture Castiel did not understand, as there were several clocks placed on the walls around the room. 

“It’s 9 o’clock, Dean.” 

“Don’t be so dramatic,” He whined. “We have company!” 

She glared at him. “I have things to do, we’ll talk about this” Lisa glanced quickly at Cas and whispered the rest. “Drinking problem of yours. Later.” 

Dean pouted as Lisa leaned in for a kiss. He didn’t purse his lips to meet hers, nor did he look at her as she pulled away. 

“Bye, Dean,” Lisa sighed, her tense tone sitting stagnant in the room. “It was nice to meet you, Cas.” 

“Nice to meet you as well,” Cas replies to her already retreating figure. Neither of the men talk as Lisa moves around the foyer, grabbing keys and pulling on shoes. 

It takes the click of the front door before Dean stands up and claps his hands together. “Well, that was a fuckin’ pain in the ass, huh?”

Cas tilts his head, “That was your fiancée?”

“I mean, Lisa’s great,” Dean trips over the words guilty, trying to make up for his previous statement. “She can just be kind of… High maintenance. It’s a chick thing, right?” 

“I’m afraid I don’t know much about ‘chick things,’ Dean.” 

“Man, who does?” Dean walks over and squeezes Cas’s shoulder. “C’mone Cas, let’s find you some new clothes.” 

 

***   Dean’s bedroom was the only place that had some semblance of his personality. His nightstand was littered with car magazines, as was a desk facing a window to the back yard. The dark wood desk had a laptop placed haphazardly, surrounded by newspapers and documents from work. It also had two pictures on it; one, he and Sam, years younger, leaning against the front of Dean’s shiny black car. The other, a young woman on a porch swing holding two young boys. Cas focused on that picture to find that it too was of Dean and Sam. Dean’s features were the same, even though his face had gotten sharper and more defined with age. Sam’s floppy hair was plastered all over the place, same as modern-day Sam. He still didn’t recognize the woman, but she shared the same expression of fondness that Dean and Sam had when they talked to one another. 

The rest of the room was entirely Lisa’s doing: more artsy photography, a vase with purple flowers, and a floral patterned bedspread. 

“This should fit you,” Dean tosses a shirt at Cas from the dresser. Cas catches the black and charcoal flannel midair and lifts it to his nose. He breaths in the worn fabric; it smelled of sandalwood, leather, and gasoline. And very, very faintly of whiskey. 

Cas lowered the shirt as Dean turned around with a pair of dark washed jeans. With the scent of the other man still buzzing around his head and dominating his power of critical thinking, he stared ahead at Dean, unsure of whether or not the man was going to leave him to change. 

Dean stared happily at Cas before snapping out of it. “Oh!” He started, “Sorry, dude. Uh, bathroom is right there if you want to wash up. I’ll be, uh, downstairs.” Dean backed out of the bedroom and thumped into the doorframe. A cardinal colored blush started on the back of his neck and worked its way to his cheekbones. 

Dean waved one hand awkwardly at Cas before turning on his heels and rushing down the stairs. 

Dork, one of Gabriel’s old insults weaseled its way into Castiel’s train of thought as he smiled affectionately after the handsome, blundering man that had just stomped his way down the steps.  
Cas raised the shirt to take another whiff of Winchester No. 5, and headed into the bathroom to get cleaned up. 

***

When Castiel reemerged, Dean was sitting at the kitchen island reading the newspaper. 

“I hope you don’t mind, Dean, I-“ 

Dean jumped. “Fucking Christ, Cas!” 

“What?”

Dean lifted a hand to his chest. “You can’t just fucking sneak up on people like that, man. You’re going to give me a friggin’ heart attack!”

Cas waited while Dean took several deep breaths. “I hope you don’t mind,” He began again. “But I found the shirt to be restricting, so I grabbed one of your other shirts to wear under it.” Cas held up his arms in demonstration of the outfit. 

Dean’s jaw popped open as his eyes racked Cas from head to toe. He was wearing the dark flannel and jeans Dean had given him, but under that was Dean’s favorite T-Shirt; his vintage 1971 Led Zep World Tour shirt. 

And goddamn if Cas didn’t look good.  
Really fucking good. 

Dean’s hand jumped to his groin before he could help it, and he tried to cover the action but standing up. 

While Dean was looking embarrassed, Castiel was worried. “I can take it off if you prefer?”

“No!” Dean protested, too quickly. “It’s fine. Just be careful that’s my favorite shirt.” In a moment of mother hen nurture, Dean reached up to adjust the skewed hem at the bottom of the shirt. His hand brushes the area of skin right above Cas’s pant-line.

Cas gasps and jumps back. A current of electricity shoots through the skin contact, up Dean’s arm, and strikes him in the lower gut. If his dick had been interested before, it was at rapt attention now. Dean retreated to the other side of the island to hide his appearing hard-on. 

Dude, what the fuck? He yelled at himself. 

He spared himself a look at Cas, who looked just as flustered as he felt. 

“Do you want coffee?” Dean asked, looking for any excuse to turn away from Cas and collect himself.

“I don’t know.” 

Dean raised his eyebrows, “You don’t know? Haven’t you ever had coffee before?”  
Cas shook his head. “My upbringing was… Far from typical.”

Cas failed to hide the small smirk on his face, which told Dean the other man was hiding something. 

“What, did you come from one of those health-nustso houses? Parents didn’t let you have sugar? All that jazz?” Dean prods, pulling out his favorite mug. Somehow Lisa had found a way to put a family portrait on a porcelain cup. It was a picture of Christmas at Bobby’s nearly ten years ago. The grumpy old man scowled up at the camera next to a grinning Ellen. Jo, Sammy, and Dean’s faces were all screwed up mid-laugh at a joke long forgotten. The only one missing from the pic was John. 

Dean handed the mug over to Cas. “Well here, today you lose your coffee virginity. Be careful, once you try it you're going to want more.” He said with a saucy wink. 

Cas blushed at Dean’s suggestive look and accepted the mug without a word. The coffee smelled nice enough, surely it would taste as good as it smelled. 

He barely got the first sip down without coughing it back up. 

Dean’s laugh rang jovially throughout the kitchen. As Cas sat there coughing, he realized he would drink much more foul things to hear Dean laugh like that again . 

“Sorry, man,” Dean reached over to slap Castiel’s back which, the angel realized didn't do much to help, but he enjoyed the contact nevertheless.  
“You drink this willingly? And enjoy it?” Cas sputtered. 

“Black, everyday. More than I should, probably. I guess it’s an acquired taste,” Dean chuckled. “Sammy’s a big wuss; I’ve got some mocha creamer shit in my fridge that he drinks it with. Want some of that?” 

“I think anything will help, yes,” Cas said. 

Dean takes back the mug and stirs some of the creamer in. Cas accepts it, hesitant this time. But his face breaks out into a grin when he sips the improved liquid. 

“This is much better,” He says happily, “I can see why Sam likes it more than your version.” 

Dean watches Castiel finish off the coffee quickly, and laughs when the cup is extended to him for a refill. “You’re gonna get the jitters, dude.” 

“Is that an illness?” Cas asked. 

“Kind of. I think I’m going to cut you off for your own good, okay?” Dean walks to the sink to rinse out the cup. 

“Dean,” Castiel’s voice is more uncertain than it was a moment ago. “I have a question.” 

“Shoot,” Dean turns, leaning with his back against the sick while taking a sponge to the cup. 

“Why did you lie to your fiancée and brother about how you know me?” 

For the second time that day, Dean causes a mug to shatter mercilessly to the ground. If he didn’t know the cause of his sudden onset butter fingers was that of a messy haired, blue-eyed stranger, he would be heading to the doctor to make sure everything was okay. 

“Fuckin’ hell,” Dean grunts. 

“I’m sorry,” Cas jumps up from his seat. “I didn’t mean to startle you. Here, let me help…” He crouches down next to Dean and starts to pick up pieces of broken porcelain and toss them in the trash. 

One of Castiel’s hands brushes over Dean’s in the haste to pick of the pieces. Dean’s hands quiver at the contact and his hands slip on a piece, breaking his skin open into a bright red pool slit of blood. 

“FUCK,” He shouts.

Cas grabs the wrist of Dean’s bleeding hand with purpose and drags him over to the sink. He turns on the water and places Dean’s hand under it, letting the lukewarm water flow over the cut, but not directly on it. 

“Where is your first aid kit?” Cas demands. 

“Don’t have one,” Dean grumbles.  
“Does Lisa?” 

“No idea,” Dean whines. “Fuck, Cas, this fuckin’ hurts.”

“Keep it under water, I’ll be right back.” Cas abandons his post at the sink in search of first aid treatment. 

As Cas scrambles around the kitchen and into the bathroom, a ball of all-too-familiar anxiety forms in the back of Dean’s throat. For whatever reason, Dean hadn’t thought his lie through to the point of talking it out with Cas. He had assumed, and stupidly so, that Cas would play along. Cas would understand his reasons without having to ask. 

But why Dean ever thought that was a mystery, because now, as he stood under the facet with blood pulsating out his palm, his pounding heart resonated through his veins at the very thought of having to explain why he lied to Cas. 

Cas reemerges from the bathroom with a box of gauze and some tape. 

“This is all I could find. I don’t think it will be very helpful, but it will do the trick until we can get you to a doctor,” He begins to unwrap a piece of gauze. 

“No fuckin’ way am I seeing a doctor,” Dean agues. “It’s just a little scratch.”

“Dean,” Cas looks at him with an intensity he had never experienced before. “It hasn’t stopped bleeding. You may need stitches.”

Dean gulps, willpower lost to Castiel’s stern gaze.

“Okay,” He chokes out.

Cas approaches him, gauze in hand, and pulls Dean’s hand out from under the water. Gently he pads off the cut with a clean towel and begins to wrap it. Dean lets himself become engulfed in feeling of nurture Castiel’s warm hands give.

“My question, Dean,” Cas says softly, flipping Dean’s hand over to continue the wrap. 

“Oh, um,” Dean rubs his neck with his spare hand. “I don’t really know - I probably should’t have I’m just an id-“

“You do that when you’re stressed, you know,” Cas nods towards Dean’s hand. “Its a habit of yours that I’ve noticed.” 

Dean stares tenderly at Cas as he finishes off the bandage. No one else had ever seemed to notice his habits, and certainly not tell him. Sammy, sure, but little brother stuff - like when he thought Dean was being a jackass. Dean liked this type of attention from Cas.

It made him feel cared for, a sense of comfort that was long forgotten after a childhood of life on the road. 

“You’re going to think I’m an idiot,” Dean says. 

“Try me,” Cas challenges. 

“Okay, but you’re going to think I’m fucking insane…” Dean pauses, chewing on his words and deliberating how to deliver them. “I got into a bad accident about three months ago. I was pretty drunk - shit-faced, actually - and I don’t remember much but I swear…” He trails off, struggling with the words.

“You swear?” Cas prompts.

“You were there.” 

Jade eyes snap up to hold Castiel’s. A warm affection spreads through Castiel’s chest and a small smile breaks out on his face. Dean remembers him. But the part of the deal with Crowley to not let Dean know about that night rings fresh in his years, and Cas swallows the confirmation of Dean’s words that’s on the tip of his tongue.

“I know it sound dumb man, maybe I was hallucinating, I don’t know,” Dean shrugs. “But I remember looking up and I just… I just think I saw you.” 

Cas stares critically at Dean, trying to compose a response that won’t be a lie, but also won’t break his deal. “It would have been impossible for me to be there that night,” He says slowly, blue eyes weighing heavily against Dean’s heart. 

“I know, I know,” Dean waves his hands, feigning nonchalance. “Like I said I was fuckin’ drunk, probably seeing things. It was Lisa who found me there and luckily she’s a nurse, cause whatever CPR or EMT crap she did saved me life. That’s what they tell me.” 

Again, the secretive smile spreads across Castiel’s face, and for the first time in minutes, Cas looks away.

Unprompted, Dean continues, “My first thought was a guardian angel, and you should know I’ve never believed in that sissy, religious shit. But that’s what I thought. And he-“ Dean flushed, “He looked just like you.”

Castiel places his hand on Dean’s forearm and rubs small circles with his thumb. “I don’t think you’re an idiot, Dean,” He says gently. “I think you suffered a great deal of psychological trauma, as well as physical, Very people have a strong enough character to get through something so dramatic, and you’re handling it remarkably well.” 

Dean practically preens under Castiel’s compliment.

“Now,” Castiel hops up, “Let’s get you to the ER.” 

Dean starts at the abrupt change of topic, but catches up quickly. “I don’t need to go to a damn doctor, Cas.” 

Cas steps into Dean’s personal bubble. “Dean Winchester, you’re going to the doctor. You’re injured, and because of that I’m in charge.” 

Castiel’s growl sends the same currents as before up Dean’s spine and down his chest, settling at his crotch.

‘Im in charge,’ He repeats Castiel’s words to himself, dick twitching excitedly against his jeans. He focuses on keeping his hands away from it. 

“Do you understand?” Cas leans forward. Tension bubbles in the limited space between them.  
 Dean nods and swallows, his Adam’s apple bopping up and down. Castiel’s eyes follow the movement. 

“Good,” Cas takes a step back. “And I apologize, but unless you want to take an ambulance you’re going to have to drive. I’m afraid I don’t know how.” 

Dean turns away, legs only slightly less solid than they were before Cas got too close. “What kind of parents don’t teach their kid how to drive,” He complains on their way out the door. “It’s a basic fuckin’ right. This is America!” 

Castiel smiles at Dean’s offense to his fictitious upbringing as they pile into the Impala. Cas makes him drive one handed, with the injured hand face up on his thigh. Cas keeps his eye on Dean’s injury - gaze only jumping occasionally from the white gauze to the bulge of material a few inches away as they make their way to the hospital.


	5. Chapter 5

Dean was an unhelpful patient, to say the least. He squirmed when he needed to be still, was sarcastic when the doctors needed a straight answer, and completed his temper tantrum by walking out of the room when the doctor said he would need three stitches. 

Cas chased him down the hallway and practically had to put a leash around the other man’s neck to drag him back into the room. 

“This is fuckin’ bullshit,” Dean barked at anyone who would listen. “I don’t need any fuckin’ stitches. I’m fuckin’ fine. I’ve got shit to do and I don’t need to be wasting my fuckin’ time here!” 

Cas ignored him and flipped through a 2011 People magazine. 

“Fuck off,” He growled at the doe eyed resident who walked through the door. The kid immediately stopped in his tracks and ran back out the door.  
 “Was that really necessary, Dean?” Cas sighs. 

“I’m not having a fuckin’ kid operate on me. I want a real doctor.” 

“He is a real doctor, he just hasn’t completed all his schooling. I’m sure he was more than competent.”

Dean rolls his eyes and stares pointedly at a landscape picture hanging on the white wall. But his pout was cut short by a heavyset black woman in pink scrubs walking through the door. 

“You Dean Winchester?” She snaps at Dean. 

“Yeah,” He grumbles back. 

“You scared off one of the residents, and now I have to give you these damn stitches myself. I am the only CNS in this hospital. Don’t you think I have more important things to do, boy?” 

Castiel tries to cover his laugh at Dean’s fear-struck face, but a guffaw escapes anyway and the nurse turns on him. 

“And you are?” She demands. 

“I’m Castiel,” He responds. “You?” 

“Nurse Moseley. You friend or family?” 

“Friend,” Cas says.

“Then you need to leave. Hospital protocol. Only family members allowed in the room during procedures, even minor ones,” She waves her hands around to shoo him out the door. 

Surprised, Castiel jumps towards his feet and rushes towards the door. As a last ditch effort, he says, “I won’t be obtrusive. I think Dean would be more comfortable with me here.” 

“Out!” She booms. 

Dean’s eyes widen and he mouths, ‘Don’t leave me!’

But Nurse Moseley pushed Cas out the door and slams it shut before he has a change to protest again. Not that it would help. 

Cas stands adrift outside the door trying to orient himself. He doesn’t know his way around the hospital, nor how long the sutures would take, but he thought getting some coffee might be a good way to spent the time. Not Dean’s way, of course, but the ‘mocha-creamer shit,’ way. 

Cas begins to walk down the hallway, searching for signs to help him navigate the corridors. He passes a room when a hand reaches out, covering his mouth and dragging him through the door. 

He twists and struggles against the stranger until 4 biting words strike a tone of familiarity. 

“Knock it out, jackass.” 

Cas is released and whips around to see Gabriel. 

“What are you doing here?” He hisses. 

“Just wanted to clear up some technical details, baby brother. Gabriel’s eyes scan Cas top to bottom, taking in the old flannel and the Led Zeppelin shirt. He whistles. “Atta boy, Cassy, you get it in already?”  
Castiel cocks his head. “I don’t understand the question.” 

“Did you get it in? Did you get his dick in your ass, or visa versa?”

“No! Why would you assume that?” 

“Because you’re wearing his after-sex clothes!” Gabriel laughs and tugs on the corner of the flannel. “This geddup is what he gives the dames to wear after a night of doing the dance with no pants.” 

Cas sighs and rubs at the bridge between his eyes, “Why are you here, Gabe?” 

“Fine, if you don’t wanna talk about your sex life. But let me tell you once you get a sex life, you’re going to want to talk about it. 

Cas glares at him. 

“Okay here’s the deal. You have until midnight Saturday to make hunk-o-beef fall head-over-heals-in-Barbie-dreamland love with you.” 

“Midnight?” Cas asks, panic rising in his voice. “But I didn’t even get to Dean until that morning. How can Crowley cut me off at midnight?” 

Gabe shrugs regretfully. “I guess the King of Hell isn’t really the best guy to take on code of honor alone. But he’s the one you made the deal with, so he’s calling the shots.”  
“That’s not fair, Gabe, I lose at least seven hours now, maybe more-“ 

“Cas,” Gabe cuts him off. “C’mone, the guy’s getting married. If you don’t get him by the wedding, you don’t get him at all.”

The words bite as Cas like a maverick spark from a flame. He stares dismally at the ground, doing the math to calculate until his hours were up. 

“Hey, knock that off.That’s your thinking face and I want to see none of it,” Gabe nudges Cas. “Besides I have a present for you.” 

“Why would I need a present?” Cas asks. 

“Christ, Cas, the normal response is gratitude. It’s money,” Gabe reaches into his pocket and hands Cas a thick roll of hundred dollar bills.   
“How much money is this?” Cas leafs though the bills. 

“Enough to cover any possible emergency you could have until Saturday night. Also I paid Dean’s bill. No surprisingly, the guy doesn’t have health insurance.”

“He doesn’t have health insurance?” 

“Nope,” Gabe says, “I don’t think its a money thing either, if that’s what you were wondering. I think it’s a stubborn jackass thing.”  
Cas frowns, “Don’t call Dean that.” 

“Just calling ‘em like I see ‘em, Baby Brother,” Gabe slaps Castiel’s back. “Okay, I think that’s all for now. You run along back to handsome, I’ll be in contact if I need anything else.” Gabe pushes Cas towards the door. 

“Wait Gabe, how did you find me?” Cas asks, but when he turns around his older brother is already gone. He sighs and begins to make his way to the waiting room, when Dean finds him. 

“Hey Cas! Wait up,” Dean jogs up to him and grins. 

“Hello Dean.” Dean’s presence soothes Castiel and wraps around his anxiety, smothering it with musk and leather. The nervousness dissipates, leaving Castiel’s arms and legs feeling relaxed. “How did it go?” 

Dean demonstrates his bandaged hand like a war hero. “Ended up with four stitches on that tiny thing. Can you believe it? Fuckin’ incredible. I have no idea how she got them in there, but she sure as hell wasn’t gentle about it.” 

The pair headed down the hallway and toward the front door. 

“Well Missouri - that’s her first name - found out I’m Lisa’s fiancé, and then yelled at me some more. I’m pretty sure she’s going to tell Lisa I’m a bad patient, but whatever I’m out of there now.” Dean babbles on as they pile into the car and Castiel listens quietly, enjoying the fluctuating baritone of his words. 

“So Cas, I don’t really know what to do with you man. I’ve got a lot of wedding stuff to do these next few days that I can’t get out of, and I don’t want to bore you to death. So if you’ve got plans, or business to take care of, I can take you there,” Dean suggests.

Dean notices immediately how jilted Cas looks, and he hastily he adds. “Not that I want to get rid of you, I just don’t want to torture you. But if you want to keep me company…” Dean struggles with the words. “I’d, uh, I’d like that. But if you’re busy or somethin’.” 

Cas smiles down at his lap. “No, I don’t have any concrete plans for the next few days. I can accompany you.” 

“Awesome,” Dean beams ahead and slaps the steering wheel. “Up first on the agenda is a last minute monkey-suit fitting. I guess Lisa didn’t like the way something looked and now we’ve gotta get half of it redone. By Saturday. I don’t fuckin’ know. She’s insane.”

Dean cut off his tangent abruptly to give Cas a curious look. “Have we officially invited you yet?”

“Seeing as we just met this morning, no you have not.” 

“Oh,” Dean blushes, “Right. I forgot. Feels like longer… Anyway, I’m officially inviting you to the Winchester-Braeden wedding this Saturday evening, cocktail hour at five, ceremony at six. Invites say formal or black tie optional - not that I really have any fuckin’ clue what that means - but you should follow it or Lisa’ll have a cow. Dinner and reception to follow, bring a gift.” 

Cas chuckles, “How often have you had to recite that?” 

“I think you just broke 400.” They laugh together and the Impala fills with warmth. Once their voices die down, both men try to bask in the afterglow of the laugh, but too quickly it disappears and the car begins to feel normal again. 

Cooler, even. 

The silence resonates until Dean claps his hands together. “So! Off to the tux fitting. Sammy has to meet us there, by the way. And don’t you dare tell him about this doctor thing today. The bastard will never let me hear the end of it.”

***   Sam’s laughter booms through the tiny tailor’s shop. 

“He scared off a resident? Oh god, that’s got be to be new low for you, Dean.” 

“Shut up, Sam!” Dean makes a move to hit Sam, but his own arm is slapped down by the tailor. 

“Don’t move!” The man snaps, pins between his teeth. 

“Sorry, Chuck.” Dean growls, anger directed at his gloating baby brother. Each was in their twenties, but Sam still grinned like a cheeky monkey whenever Dean got in trouble for something that wasn’t Dean’s fault. 

“Wipe that shit eating smile off your face,” Dean grumbles. 

Sam ignores him and turns back to Cas. “He’s always been a big wimp about doctors. I think its cause nobody made him go as a kid, so he never got used to it. Our dad didn’t really care if we were healthy. If you think today was bad you should see him at the dentist. Last time he had to be sedated just for a cleaning!” 

Cas laughs jovially in the company of the two Winchester brothers. He felt quite at home with the two of them; a luxury heaven had long since lost. 

“What happens if he goes to the Ophthalmologist?” Cas asks.

“Oh, he’s never been. Probably legally blind in both eyes,” Sam snarks.

“I don’t need no friggin’ eye doctor shining a light in my eyes. I see fine, thanks.” Dean barks, then yips when Chuck sticks a needle in his leg. 

“Well if you weren’t jumping around that wouldn't happen,” Chuck complains. 

“When are you getting suited up, gigantor?” Dean directs the question at Sam. 

“I already got mine fitted before you came. This isn’t even my wedding and I’m more organized than you.”

“Stop being a little bitch,” Dean says. 

“Stop being a jerk,” Sam replies. 

Castiel observes their interaction, all too familiar with the brother dynamics. At least between he and Gabriel, that is. With all the other angels there’s a false sense of formality that only the Jokester was able to overcome. 

“What about you, Cas?” Dean asks him. 

Cas perks up and meets Dean in the eye. “What abut me?” 

“Are you getting a monkey suit too?” 

“Should I?” 

“Yeah, if you're coming to my wedding!” Dean says with gusto.

“I suppose I’ll get a suit then,” Cas complies. 

Sam watches the two men stare at each other, the unblinking intensity miles past the line of ‘friendly.’ He clears his throat after they finish talking. Green and blue eyes snap away from each other, and turn to Sam. 

“Oh, nothing just a bug in my throat,” Sam fights down his grin. 

Bashfully, Dean and Cas avoid looking back at each other. Castiel goes as far as wondering off to a rack of suits. Chuck hops up from his perch by Dean’s leg and goes trotting after Cas. “Don’t touch those, Mr. Novak, they’re hand made for customers. I have another rack over here for you to look at…” 

“Dude,” Sam hisses, after the other two men disappear into another room. “Chill with the eye sex. Lisa’s going to think you’re having an affair.” 

Dean begins to babble. “What? We are not having eye sex, Sam. Don’t be fuckin’ dumb. Don’t say dumb things.” Red settles in his cheeks. 

“Dean, normally two people don’t look so intensely at each other for such a long time without thinking about undressing each other.” 

“He’s going to hear you, shut up!” 

Sam laughs. “Whatever, Dean.” His voice grows more serious and even quieter. “I’m just saying, be careful okay. Not everyone is so open minded.” 

“What? Sam, I’m not gay. Why does everyone in this family think I’m gay?” 

“Nobody thinks you’re gay, Dean.” 

“Enough, Sam,” Dean’s voice grows rough, reminding Sam so much of their father. “I’m marrying Lisa. In two days. Knock it off.” 

Sam bites his lip, debating on how far he can push Dean without shoving him off the edge. 

He determines that his big brother can handle a little bit more. 

“Maybe its because I’ve been talking too many psychology courses, but I think it’s interesting how you say you’re marrying Lisa instead of that you’re in love with Lisa.” 

Sam runs off after Cas and Chuck the second the words are out of his mouth, leaving Dean standing agape and frustrated. 

***

Chuck, as Castiel soon discovered, was a master tailor. In just minutes, he had chosen the perfect suit for Cas and had already begun sticking pins in the places that needed adjustments by the time Sam meandered in. Dean, who was not allowed to leave his post in the other room, yelled for them to hurry up so Chuck could finish whatever need to be done on his own monkey suit. 

It made everyone uncomfortable when Cas pulled out the wad of hundreds and counted out the proper amount for Chuck. Sam fidgeted around, hopping from one foot to the other, and Dean rubbed his face. But Chuck was professional, and counted out the proper change for Castiel before retuning to Dean’s suit.  
“I’ll have it ready before Saturday,” The tailor promises.

Chuck begins to fit an aqua vest with peach lining around Dean’s chest. Castiel watches the way Dean’s face cringes at the color, and then determinedly refused to look at the piece of fabric again. 

“That’s a very pretty color, Dean,” Cas tires to extend his comfort, but Dean merely snorts.    
“It’s fuckin’ awful, dude. But it’s what Lisa wants.” 

Dean looks up at the ceiling, effectively ending the conversation. Cas looks to Sam for some sort of explanation to Dean’s angst, but the younger Winchester only shakes his head and purses his lips. 

Cas, Sam thought, would learn soon enough that Dean is far from excited about marrying this woman. 

“So Cas,” Sam attempts to lighten the mood, “Will you coming to the rehearsal dinner tonight?” 

“I wasn’t aware of such an event. I will be there if Dean wishes me to attend,” Cas decides after a pause. 

“Of course I want you there!” Dean says so quickly Chuck jumps back at the sudden movement. “Sorry, chuck.” 

Cas and Dean smile at each other. “Then I will attend,” Cas confirms. He looks down at his newly acquired garment bag and frowns. “What’s the proper attire for such an event?” 

Dean shrugged. “I’ve got no fuckin’ clue. Sammy, you know?” 

Sam rolls his eyes. “Dress pants, nice shirt and tie. This rehearsal dinner is a bit bigger than most typically are. I think Lisa invited, like, every friend she’s ever had. So you won’t feel out of place for not being immediate family.” 

Cas nods, “I think I may need to purchase another outfit.” 

“Christ, Cas, don’t you own any clothes?” Dean asks. 

“It appears I did not adequately prepare for my trip to Lawrence.”

Dean accepted this and grunted out a laugh, but Sam narrowed his eyes and started analytically at Cas. Cas felt the gaze, and stared straight ahead to avoid it. He knew that if Sam were to confront him, he wouldn’t be able to lie. Sam was far too critical for that. He would settle for nothing less than the truth, and that wasn’t something Cas could give him. 

“I can run you over to the mall or something while Dean finishes up here, Cas,” Sam offers. Cas freezes up, for if he goes with Sam then Sam will ask questions. But there’s not acceptable reason not to go with Sam.

“That would be very kind, thank you.” 

*** 

Castiel didn’t care for the mall. It was an ant mound of society, budding with people running around on the dingy tiles, blindly buying whatever it was advertisers told them they needed. 

It made Cas ill, this was not the purpose of humans. 

But Sam was cherry, and his happiness leaked into the people around him, including Cas. Sam’s floppy mop of hair bounced with every long stride he took down the indoor streets, and Cas had to speed walk to keep pace. 

They found a dress store for men and picked out striped shirt and matching royal blue tie. The young sales woman promised Cas it would make his eyes pop, and that it complimented his hip-to-shoulder ratio. Castiel didn’t know what either of those things meant. 

Again, he paid with hundred dollar bills. Sam bit back the budding question on his lips, exercising self control to avoid alienating Cas. But it definitely wasn’t normal for someone to be carrying around that much cash. 

Cas enjoyed spending time with Sam. The younger Winchester filled the silence by rambling on about stories of college, girlfriends, and - Castiel’s personal favorite - Dean. Cas was quite fond of Dean’s hellion childhood troublemaker phase. 

“So, Cas,” Sam started as they loaded into Sam’s car, a red SUV from the 21st century. “Dean said you know each other from school?” 

“Yes, Dean did say that.” 

“How did you actually meet?” Sam settles into the drivers seat and pulls out of the busy parking lot. 

Castiel pauses, stories flying through his head; none good enough to meet the Sam Winchester standard. 

“We sat next to each other in an Ancient Culture History class.” 

“I didn’t know Dean every took an ancient civilizations class! What cultures did you study? I thought about declaring anthropology as my undergrad, but I ended up with history. Very similar but not exactly the same. Ancient Greece was always my favorite…” 

Cas sighed as Sam easily bought into the lie. They chatted effortlessly about long-dead societies. Sam was thrilled with Castiel’s anecdotes about ancient Egypt, little did he know it was because Castiel had witnessed it. 

“How do you know all that?” Sam asked.

“My father was very familiar with the history of humanity,” Castiel grins at his private joke.

“Oh. Professor somewhere?” 

“Something like that.” 

The rest of the car ride continued peacefully, and before they knew it the red SUV was parked in front of Dean and Lisa’s house. Castiel pushes the car door into place, with a crashing sounds from inside the house. 

“What was that?” Cas asks. 

Sam was already half way to the door by the time Cas got the words out. Before he could reach the front step, Lisa storms out of the door, the heavy oak swinging so violently it hits the house siding. 

She rages down the sidewalk and slams into Cas, tiny figure impacting more force than he would have imagined. The tires squeal as she tears out of the driveway and onto the suburb road. When Cas turns around Sam has already disappeared into the house. 

Cas finds Sam in the kitchen standing in front of Dean, gripping his older brother’s shoulders. Nervousness pumps through Castiel’s body at the sight of Dean. 

The blond haired man stands gripping the edge of the kitchen counter, muscles tensed and veins popping up through his arms and neck. Instead of the cute patches of red that formed on Dean’s cheeks when he blushes, blotches flushed his entire face cheery red. Dean’s thick shoulders quiver with rage, and he shoves Sam’s hands off him. 

“Don’t fuckin touch me, Sam,” He sneers. 

“What the hell happened Dean?” Sam demands. 

“She’s a fuckin’ bitch that’s what happened,” Dean fumes. He takes swing at the air. Castiel remains calm, sensing that there were no words to ease Dean’s fury. 

“Yeah I got that, but why?” Sam presses,

“FUCK OFF, SAM,” Dean’s voice exploded through the house. “I DONT NEED YOUR FUCKING RELATIONSHIP ADVICE, OKAY?” 

Sam remains stoic, and waits for Dean’s breath to steady before speaking. 

“Okay Dean, call me when you feel like being an adult.” 

Dean watches Sam walk out the door before turning and slamming his fist though the wall. Bits of drywall crumble to dust at the floor. It was this that finally makes Cas speak up. 

“DEAN,” His voice rings out, far deeper and more confident than what he had expected. Dean freezes. 

“Stop this, Dean. We do not need to visit the hospital twice today. You barely missed the beam!” He gestures at the steel bar just inches from where Dean made contact.

Dean holds Castiel’s gaze for as long as he can before the structures within him being to crack. He leans back against the wall and covers his face with his hands. 

“Dean,” Castiel says.

Dean does not react. 

“Dean, look at me,” Castiel commands. Dean’s eyes rise slowly from between his fingers to meet the angel’s. 

“Tell me what happened,” Cas says. It wasn’t a suggestion. 

“I - I don’t know,” Dean says, and he didn’t. He didn’t know how to tell Cas that a voice mail from his father had triggered him into a spiral of anger, and how Lisa had only fueled it further. 

He didn’t know how to explain why John calling unsolicited to make sure none of Dean’s “faggy friends” were going to be a the wedding sent him out of control. Or, after listening to the voicemail, how Lisa had brought up her not-so-subtle questions of Dean’s sexuality. Or how when she had implied he was anything other than straight, she did so with filth, like the question was dirt on her tongue. 

Or her tone and insinuations when Dean had said Castiel was now invited to the rehearsal dinner.

He had kept up the charade of his own heterosexuality for nearly three decades, why was it all falling to pieces now? 

It wasn’t even that he didn’t like women, he loved women. But there was something appealing about the harder features of men, the thick lines of muscle and patches of stubble that turned him on in ways that he knew John would rip him to pieces for. 

Dean falls to the floor, shoulders shaking. Slowly, Cas sinks to the ground in front of him, placing his hands on the faded patches of denim at Dean’s knees. 

“Dean,” He says more gently this time. “I’m someone you can trust.” 

“My dad - John - found out a good friend of mine is gay. And he uh, he doesn’t like that. Wanted to make sure they wouldn’t be at the wedding.” 

“That’s horrible thing to do,” Cas consoles. 

The hairs on Dean’s neck rise, and his instinctual defense of John reared his ugly head. “He was born in another time, okay? People were a lot less open minded then. Give the guy a break.” 

“Dean, age is not an excuse for bigotry,” Castiel replies.

“Marine too, you know how traditional those guys can be.” 

“Any behavior that upsets you this much is unacceptable,” Cas says firmly. “You should tell him to stop.” 

“It’s not my place to tell my father what to do, Cas! I’m his kid. He gives me the orders not the other way around.” 

“You’re an adult you shouldn’t be taking orders from him anyway.” 

“Cas,” Dean grips his hair in frustration. “You just don’t understand.”

“I have my fair share of issues with my own father, Dean. You’re not the only one who comes from a damaged family.” 

The heat radiating from Castiel’s eyes shocks Dean. He was so used to people backing down when he got angry, it was unusual to find someone who could match his rage stride for stride. 

Almost instantaneously, Dean’s fury fizzled into emptiness. “I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant.” 

“I know,” Cas says. He begins to rub small circles with his thumbs on Dean’s knees. They sit in silence, one catching his breath, the other organizing his thoughts. 

“Who’s your friend?” Cas asks, first to break the still. 

“Who?” 

“You’re friend? The one John doesn’t approve of. What’s his name?”

“Oh! Charlie,” Dean said the name with a smile. Castiel’s stomach does a little contraction and he stares down at the hardwood floor.

“And Charlie,” Dean adds. “Is not a he. She’s a chick.” 

Relief rushes through Cas, warm and soothing. 

“And she’s gay?” 

“Gay as they come,” Dean chuckles. 

“Dean,” Castiel starts slowly, choosing his words with care at risk of sending the man into a fit again. “Homophobia is awful, but it’s not uncommon. I’m sure you see it elsewhere. Why does it send you into such a rage when it’s at the hands of your father?” 

Answers flood Dean’s mind, their honestly cutting. 

Because I want to make my father proud.

Because I don’t want to be something he hates. 

Because I’m terrified of what would happen if he ever found out. 

But all Dean manages to say is, “I don’t know Cas,” as his eyes fall to the floor.

Cas regards this but didn’t push Dean for anything else. He gives Dean’s knee a final squeeze and stands up, offering the other man a hand. 

“I guess I should call Lisa,” Dean mumbles. 

“You should also fix the wall,” Cas adds.

Dean turns to look at the hole he left in the light yellow paint. “Aw, fucking hell. That’s going to be another fight. I’ll deal with that in a second.” 

Dean pulls out his phone and walks into anther room to talk to Lisa, undoubtably apologizing for a fight that was only half his fault. 

Castiel stays in the kitchen staring at the empty spot on the wall. With a sly grin and years of experience in dealing with Gabriel’s failed antics, Castiel moves quickly to rearrange a photograph so it hands above the hole. He beams proudly at his work, and turns to Dean just as the other man walks back in the room. 

Dean’s laugh radiates to Castiel’s chest, filling him to the brim with fondness. “I love it, Cas. It’s great.” He slaps Cas on the shoulder. Dean’s hand lingers, and a chill shoots up Castiel’s spine as his fingers trail down Castiel’s back. But the touch is too quick, and before Cas has the chance to enjoy it, Dean’s hand is back at his own side. 

“She’s going to notice, but it might put off the fight for a few more days. That’s the best we can hope for,” Dean says with a sigh. 

“What did she say on the phone?” 

“Just bitched some more. But the rehearsal dinner is still on.” 

“What time does that start?” Cas asks. 

Dean checks the watch around his wrist. He wears it backwards; face side on his inner wrist. The leather is beat up and tearing, but the face is detailed and beautiful. 

“Uh, pretty soon. We have to leave in an hour and a half or so. I guess that trip to the hospital took longer than I thought. We better get showered and head out on the road.” 

Castiel cocks his head and Dean flushes. 

“Not WE shower, like together. I mean you shower, and then I shower. Or I shower then you shower. I didn’t- don’t take that the wrong way that’s not what I -,” Dean’s tongue trips over the words in a panic. 

Cas smiles endearingly at Dean’s baffling. He chooses not to say anything and heads up the stairs to shower, very separately, from Dean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks for the feedback and support! xx


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little smut to make up for my absence in posting, enjoy! 
> 
> Kudos and comments are always appreciated
> 
> xx

In a fit of chivalry, Dean insisted Cas take the master bathroom, and he would use the smaller guest shower. Castiel refused initially, but with a buildup of hospital grime settling on his skin he found it very difficult to fight off the offer of the luxurious shower. With a large sky light and bright white walls, it was truly a beautiful piece of architecture. 

Cas stood under the shower, letting the warm water hit his shoulders and run from his back down to his legs, cleansing him from the long day on Earth. He popped open a bottle of shampoo and squirted some on his hands; it smelled like Dean’s hair. He lathered the soap into his head. The scent mixed with the heavy steam of the bathroom, surrounding Cas with the smell of Dean in every breath he took. 

In thousands of years of existence, Castiel had never felt such an intense sensation in his lower gut as he did around Dean. It started as a burning ember and spread through his legs and arms, setting every nerve on high alert and every touch to tingle. He took another deep breath.

Castiel tried to ignore his rising erection as Dean’s scent overwhelmed him. But it stretched into the empty space, aching to be touched at each thought of the thick-muscled blonde man just a few rooms away. 

Castiel reached down and gave himself two slow tugs. He moaned at the pressure, the relief those two short touches gave him. But guilt overcame him quickly, and after turning off the faucet he jumped out of the shower into the crisp air of the bathroom. 

Simultaneously, Dean was having a similarly stressful showering experience in the guest bathroom. No matter how cold he turned the faucet, images of Cas wet and naked standing in HIS shower, lathering up in HIS soap, rubbing himself in HIS towel, kept creeping their way into Dean’s mind. But unlike Cas, which Dean’s erection popped up against his stomach, he grabbed ahold of it and squeezed tight. 

He bit his lips at the pressure, hand beginning to pump rhythmically up and down. It didn’t take very long, and only the wild fantasy of Castiel’s lips wrapping themselves around the his head before Dean’s breath hitched and cum splattered against the tile walls. 

Dean breathed out slowly and let still cold water flow over his weakly throbbing cock. It wasn’t long before the water - which moments ago had been providing the only detriment to his libedo - became unbearably cold. Dean splashed some of the water against the wall to wash his cum down the drain and hopped out of the shower to wrap a towel around his waste. 

Dean rubbed the water from his eyes and looked up at his reflection in the mirror. His face was invigorated and flushed, green eyes popping more than they usually did. Dean nodded at his reflection. Without a doubt, he looked good. 

But he felt foul. As the last few minutes caught up to him, Dean’s nose raised in disgust at his actions. He had just beat off to thought of another man. A man that he barely knew. And in his home. With Lisa. 

Without ever even seeing the man naked, at that. 

He nearly retched at the thought of Lisa ever finding out he touched himself to other guys sometimes. She would be so pissed, and so grossed out. She would never look at him the same again. Fuck, she might even dump him. 

It wasn’t that this was the first he had jacked off thinking about another guy, it was just that it had been so long since an indecent. Well before his time with Lisa, months probably, maybe even a year. But he had always credited the incidents to long dry-spells without sex. 

That wasn’t the explanation this time. 

Self loathing bubbling up into his chest and settling into a simmering feeling of disgusted anger. Dean dragged his hand across his face in anguish. He had to get his shit together, he was marrying one of the hottest girl’s he’d ever laid eyes on in two days. 

He started to dry off his legs and back. Halfway down his left leg, he froze. 

“Fuck,” Dean snarled. 

While he normally would stroll one out of the bathroom into the bedroom to get dressed, Dean was in the guest bathroom downstairs. His clothes were upstairs. 

In his bedroom. 

With Castiel. 

He dick gave a pitiful twitch at the thought of being so exposed near Castiel. He glared down at Little Dean, willing it to behave just this once. 

Dean tightened up the towel around his waist and bravely opened the door to the bathroom. He walked confidently up the stairs, only hesitating as he reached the bedroom door. 

He gulped. He pressed his ear against the door to try and see if Cas was in the bedroom or still in the bathroom. He heard no noise, and slowly, Dean opened the bedroom door. 

He breathed a deep sigh of relief upon seeing the bathroom door still shut snugly on the opposite wall. The light was still on, and little waves of steam wafered up from under the door. 

Dean walked over to the dresser and shimmied into a pair of green boxers. He dropped the towel on the floor and went to open the bottom drawer of his bureau. 

That was when the bathroom door opened. 

Cas emerged with a towel wrapped around his waist the same way Dean’s had just been. Cas runs a nonchalant hand through his dripping hair as he walks out of the bathroom.

The blood that Cas had tried so hard to get flowing elsewhere, rushes back down to his cock at the sight of Dean bending over, ass in the air. Cas lets out a small yelp when his cock swells up and rubs against the warm, wet towel. 

Dean jumps up from the floor, face tomato red. 

“Shit,” He says, scrambling into the pants he had pulled out. 

What little blood he had left flooded Castiel’s face as he watched Dean hop around on one leg, trying to squeeze the other leg into his pants. Cas tries to hold the towel as far away from his hips as modesty would allow in an ill-fated attempted to conceal his unfortunate hard on, but there was no hiding it. Luckily, Dean was looking everywhere but Cas. 

Dean grabs the clear plastic garment bag with his dress shirt off the dresser and beelines towards the door. He swerves to avoid Cas, but the angel is standing too close to Dean’s exit and their naked shoulders smack. 

“Shit,” Dean moans again. 

He pulls the door closed behind him, leaving a very flustered Castiel standing almost naked and hard. Hand reacting faster than his brain, Castiel reaches under the towel and begin to fist his dick. He finishes within minutes - cum spilling into the towel - the feeling of Dean’s warm skin still tinging against the spot on his shoulder. 

Cas stands in Dean’s room catching his breath. He cleans himself off and drops the soiled towel into the dirty laundry pile, a small prayer going out that Lisa does not look too closely.

Cas dresses quickly, letting the mechanics of it all consume his brain instead of reflecting on his interaction with Dean. He stands in front of the mirror, new dress shirt and tie on, and appraises himself. He doesn’t look half bad, he thinks, the shirt really does make his shoulders look wider and his eyes look brighter. 

Cas tries to comb through his messy hair with his fingers, but only succeeds in making the ends stand up more. He gave up quickly, deciding that the rest of his nicely put together appearance would have to make up for it. 

He knows there was no putting it off, so instead of wasting time Cas walks promptly down the stairs to face Dean. He finds the other man by the kitchen counter in a fitting light green shirt and tie with tight pants. 

Cas gulps. 

Dean jumps up from where he was leaning and looks at Cas head to toe. From the other side of the room, Castiel watches Dean’s adams apple bob up and down. 

“Lookin’ good, Cas,” Dean swallows. 

Cas smiles, “You as well.” 

The two men stand in silence, Dean kicking at a spot on the floor, and Cas grinning bashfully down at his feet. Despite the output of emotion overflowing in each, neither had a word to say. 

Their silence was broken moments later by a honking from outside the front door. 

“That’ll be Sammy,” Dean comments, voice quieter than it would be normally.

Castiel’s eyes met Dean’s. “We wouldn’t want to keep him waiting.” 

Neither man moved. 

It was only when Sam stuck his head through the front door, yelling for them to hurry up and get to the car, that Dean and Cas broke away from each others eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be updated soon


	7. Chapter 7

Castiel soon learns that rehearsal dinners are dry as a bone. He sits in the middle of the sanctuary, among the other guests who were well liked enough to be invited, but not important enough to be included in the service. 

Sam stands next to Dean at the alter as the minster runs through the program of the upcoming ceremony. Cas catches the younger Winchester looking at his watch. Sam smirks at Cas and winks, raising one finger to his lips. Cas grins back. 

Dean intersects Castiel’s smile towards the alter. He throws a glance back at Sam, who shrugs his big shoulders in response. Dean looks back at Cas, to find he has grown very interested in the color the pew in front of him. Dean turns back to face Lisa with a small huff. 

“Any questions?” The minister wraps up his long-winded explanation. 

“Yeah, what day is this happening? Cause I’ve got a thing Saturday,” Dean replies, earning a chorus of giggles form his guests. 

“Saturday, and nobody likes a smartass,” The minister deadpans.

“Dude! Priests don’t cuss,” Dean banters. 

“First of all, I am not a priest. Secondly, ass isn’t a curse word; it’s in the bible.” 

“Dean, leave Mr. Crowley alone. Besides, what are you doing Saturday thats so important?” Lisa teases. 

“Marrying you, beautiful,” Dean swoops her into a kiss, encouraged by the ‘aw-ing’ from his audience. 

Sam’s looks for Cas to lift a finger to his mouth and make a gagging motion. Cas nods along vigorously. The other guests laugh even more at Sam. 

An underdressed man stands up from the front row and begins to crab. “Ya we know, Winchester boys are a hoot. But we’ve been in this damn church - also in the bible, minister - for an hour. Can’t we get some food now?” 

“For once I agree with you, old man!” Dean slaps the man on the back. “Everybody, listen to Bobby. We’ll see you all at the restaurant in 30!” 

Cas waits to walk up to the alter until the other guests have filled out. He approaches Sam and Bobby while they wait for Dean and Lisa to finish a private conversation with Crowley. 

“Cas!” Sam greets him. “This is Bobby. Our pseudo-uncle. Bobby, this is Cas. An old school friend of Dean’s.” 

“Very nice to meet you,” Cas shakes the older man’s hand.

“Dean never mentioned a Cas,” Bobby replies. “Cas sounds short for something. What’s your real name, boy?” 

“Castiel.” 

“Castiel what?”

“Castiel Novak.”

Bobby grunts, “Weird name. Parents must have been some art hippies.”    
“They had an affinity towards angelic names,” Castiel explains. The older man begins to turn away, when Castiel’s voice resonates powerfully. “And you?” 

“‘Scuse me?” 

“And you?” Castiel repeats more firmly. “Bobby must be short for something.”

From the sidelines Sam watches the encounter, mouth agape. 

Bobby narrows his eyes at Cas. “Robert Steven Singer, boy.” 

Castiel nods at Bobby, earning a gruff, “Glad we cleared that up,” 

Sam bounces towards Cas as soon as Bobby wanders off. “Dude,” He says, “That was awesome. Most people can’t dish it right back to Bobby. That was hilarious!” 

“He is intimidating,” Cas consents.

“Eh, yeah. You get used to it though, Bobby’s a big softie once you get past all the hot air.” Sam beams down at Cas and slaps him on the shoulder. “I’m riding with him to the restaurant. You’ll fit in the car too - c’mone let’s get going.” 

***

They wine and dine on perfectly cooked fish with a light colored cream sauce that Cas found immensely delightful. He munches happily on the entrée, along with the soft potatoes and crispy greens on the side. Everyone eats jovially, aside from one lone complaint out of Bobby about fish being synonymous with lettuce. He was silenced after the first bite of food. 

Castiel sits several seats away from Dean. He had imagined he would be sat even further away, to make family a priority. But he notices that Dean didn’t seem to have a large family. Merely two women he was introduced to as Ellen and Jo. Besides them it was only Bobby and Sam. But they surround him like gleeful puppies, their constant chipping and giggling filing the restaurant with merriment. 

Lisa, on the other hand, had a very long list of guests. However none of them seemed as content as Dean’s relations. They talk politely or sat in silence, no camaraderie or familiarity to be shared. Lisa behaved in this way towards Dean’s family; she made small talk and smiled, laughter never quite reaching her eyes. 

 

“So,” Jo nudges Cas him, breaking him from quite observation. “How’d you really meet Dean? Bank robbery? Strip club? GAY strip club?”

Cas chokes on an ice cube. “Excuse me?”

“Please, Cas,” Jo laughs, “Who do you think gave me my first shot of Patron? I would go up to visit Dean when he was at school to, you know, ‘tour the campus’ and stuff. Really we just got shitfaced and hung out. I knew all of his friends. Hell, I MADE him his friends. We would know each other.” 

Castiel coughs nervously. “Um, perhaps it’s because I was more diligent in my studies than Dean. My evenings were spent in the library.”

“Sure, Cas,” She elbows him. “That may be partially true, but I know Dean wouldn’t have kept your fine ass a secret very long.” With a wink of her long eyelashes, Jo hops up and flutters off to the other side of the room. 

Sam snickers into his glass of wine. Castiel’s eyes snap up at him. 

“Sorry,” He chuckles, “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, really. But she just said what we were all thinking. There’s no way Dean wouldn’t have introduced you to us.” 

Sam’s eyes held Castiel’s in the steady truth-bearing way they were so talented at. Cas squirmed under his gaze, uncomfortable with lying. But he would continue the shared to protect Dean, if that’s what Dean wanted. 

Luckily, before Cas could say anything too insinuating, Sam let him off the hook. “You don’t have to tell me, just letting you know that we know.” 

“Thank you Sam,” Cas says sincerely. 

“Don’t mention it,” Sam responds, “Now drink up, we’re going to be here all night.”

Cas raises his glass and takes a long sip. “I like wine,” He decides.   
 “Most late-twenty somethings do. My girlfriend likes to say that she skipped the party stage and fully embraced suburban mom wine culture at 21,” Sam jokes. 

Dean chimes in from the head of the table. “Speaking of Miss. Jessica, where is the beauty? How dare she not attend this fine party?” 

“She had to decline,” Sam explaines. “She’s taking the MCAT on Saturday before the wedding, so she’s at home studying. Besides, she’s not in the service so she doesn’t have to be here.” 

“Yeah but we need her to balance out your ugly face,” Dean jibes. 

Sam wades up a cloth napkin and throws it at him. 

Mid-laugh, Dean looks up and met Castiel’s eye. Cas smiles back at him, and Dean grins even wider. Dean breaks the gaze first, looking down at his napkin. Castiel continues to watch even after Dean has looked away. 

“Well, Sammy, you really landed yourself a winner. Being a doctor is awesome. Cheers to you both!” Dean raises his glass and the rest of the table followed suit. The guests erupt into chatter after they take their drink, but Castiel tunes into the conversation at the end of the table just in time to hear Lisa whisper defensively, “I’m a nurse, Dean!”

Cas looks up just in time to see Bobby roll his eyes.   
 ***  
Hours later, the party finally came to a lull and guests began to make their way out the doors. Carpools were arranged to get out of towers to the proper hotel or house. Somehow, Cas and Dean ended up getting dropped of by Lisa’s aunt-so-and-so because it was on the way back to her hotel. Dean huffed and grumbled about not being the driver. Cas didn’t mind at all. 

They said a swift thank you to Lisa’s family and made their way to the front porch. “Well I hope you didn’t have an awful time,” Dean says, filling the silence. 

“No, I enjoyed myself. I observed quite a lot about your family dynamic.” 

Dean chuckles, “Yeah. They’re a little rough around the edges but they’re all I’ve got.” 

Cas bites his lip, seeing the opportunity to take his shot he had long been pondering. “What happened to your parents?” He asks, nervous for the response. 

Dean explains his history as his keys jingle to unlock the front door. “Mom died when I was a kid. House fire. My dad’s still around but not consistently. He’s supposed to be back for the bachelor’s party tomorrow, though. You’ll meet him then.” 

“What’s his name?” Cas pushes. 

“John Winchester. He kind of lost it after Mom passed. He does odd jobs now, like driving trucks and stuff. He had a pretty steady job driving an 18-wheeler for a while, but he got into a pretty back wreck around the same time I did. Messed up his progress, I think he’s been going on benders since.”   
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Cas sympathizes. 

Dean laughs darkly. “Sorry, I shouldn’t be sharing all this. I’m a little tipsy, hadn’t one too many glasses of that wine.” 

“Don’t apologize for talking about your family, Dean.”

Dean flicks on some lights in the foyer and the two begin to make their way up the stairs in silence before Cas speaks again. “Besides, it was very good wine.” 

Dean stares at Cas before exploding in laughter. “Dude, was that a joke?” 

Cas grins down at his feet, “I may have had one too many glasses of wine as well.” 

As they cross the threshold of the guest bedroom, Dean clutches onto Castiel’s shoulder for support. Dean’s warm strong hands send a tingling rush through Castiel’s arms. His legs bow as he doubles over in laughter. Castiel’s eyes graze the curve and bend in Dean’s legs. Cas licks his lips, and his his legs fill with heat as his cock becomes an aching arch. 

Dean stands up to come face to face with the all encompassing passion in Castiel’s expression. He freezes, trapped under the other man’s intensity. 

Castiel reaches up a hand to Dean’s face. He extends a finger to touch Dean’s lips, before drawing it back very quickly. 

Even though Cas hadn’t laid a hand on him, Dean feels the vast emptiness of where the other man was going to touch him. Heat and passion and alcohol seethe into action, and Dean’s blood turns to fire. 

He shoves Castiel against the wall and pins his wrists above his head. Castiel breath hitches and turns into a simmering whimper. He spreads his legs and Dean sticks on of his own between them. 

The first time Dean grinds his thigh down Castiel’s cock, Castiel’s tiny whimpers turn to a deep groan. He juts his hips out to add more friction against the leg. Through boxers and two pairs of pants, Dean can feel Castiel’s precum pooling at his groin. 

Dean presses his nose into Castiel’s neck. He smells sharp and edgy and tough. Dean angles his hips so his own cock rubs against Castiel’s thigh. Cas tugs on Dean’s hair and Dean’s head snaps up, lips grazing Castiel’s ear. Slowly, Dean runs his tongue against the outline, and sucks the lobe in between his lips. Castiel moans into Dean. 

“You looked really fuckin’ sexy tonight, Cas,” Dean whispers, voice low and labored. 

Cas wraps his arms around Dean’s neck and tugs the man so Dean is looking at him. “So did you, Dean.” 

Dean grabs Castiel’s hips and plants them against his own, legs out of the way. He moves slowly and watches Cas bite his lips, close enough to see the way pink skin turns white under the teeth. He keeps on hand on Castiel’s hip and rests the other one above his head on the wall. 

Dean leans in so that their noses are brushing. Castiel grazes his lips against Dean’s cheek, leaning a trail of warmth against the rough stubble. Dean follows suit, his lips scraping against Castiel’s cheek. Cas smiles when the corners of their mouths tickle together. They move in intervals until their lips graze together. 

“You home?” Lisa’s voice calls from downstairs accompanied by the slam of the front door. Dean jumps half way across the room, and rubs his hand against his mouth. 

“Upstairs!” Deans voice cracks when he shouts back. 

With a panicked look, Dean walks out of the room without another word. Cas remains agains the wall, breathing heavily. He reaches inside his boxers and squeezes himself tightly, longing for the touch that was no longer available. 

Castiel pulls himself from the wall and closes the door with a click. He undresses quickly, pulling the various pieces of his suit off and tossing them haphazardly against a chair in the corner. Cas climbs into bed and lays on his stomach, too hot and bothered to give any thought to his interaction with Dean. Body working before brain, Cas begins to hump against the mattress to the same rhythm Dean had moved against him. He came on one of the pillows in no time, the thought of Dean’s lips tingling against his own tipping him over the edge. 

Dumping the soiled pillow, Cas collapsed against the mattress. Willing himself not to think about his interaction with Dean, he passes out on the warm sheets. He might have made it until morning without his brain working, until Dean and Lisa’s faint voices sound through the bedroom wall. 

“C’mone Dean,” Lisa coos, “You looked so sexy tonight.” 

“No, Lisa,” Dean’s muffled voice replies sternly though the wall. “I’m not in the mood. Wait until the wedding night.” 

Lisa makes a noise of disapproval, and minutes later Castiel hears the shower in the master bathroom turn on. His stomach flip flops. Dean had turned down Lisa, he muses, and unless he had a deeply flawed understand of male sex, Dean was most definitely in the mood.

Cas spends the rest of the night in a uneasy sleep, filled with highs of warm coziness and lows of desperate anxiety that often accommodate romance. Through the wall, Dean spent his night in the same restless fashion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy thanksgiving ;) 
> 
> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> xx


	8. Chapter 8

Cas wakes up with a dry tongue and a case of intense I-want-to-go-back-to-sleep-itis. He rolls onto he side to check the clock. It reads 12:53 p.m. The light sparks a dull headache at Castiel’s forehead and he groans into the pillow. 

As Cas slowly draws into consciousness, he becomes aware of the rather urgent call for duty radiating from his cock. It was flopped up on his abdomen, head poking through the waistline of the too-loose sweatpants. Images of he and Dean rutting against each other on the wall come rushing back and he grips at his erection through the cotton. 

Cas tugs frantically at himself, remembering the soft pressure of Dean’s lips and his taste on his tongue. He remembers the way their cocks had rubbed against each other; the friction of one another through the dress pants and the way Dean’s cock had soaked precum through the fabric. He spills over the edge. 

Cas catches his breath as his mind continues to update him on the previous night’s events. He remembers touching himself again after Dean had left. Suddenly overwhelmed by a nervous guilt, he hops out of bed to clean up his soiled sheets and pants. 

With the dull headache still settled behind his eyes Cas pads down the stairs to find the rest of the household. In the kitchen he finds Lisa and Dean; Dean, with his hands pinching the gap between his eyes and Lisa with her arms set on her hips. 

“We’re not changing our plans, we’ve had them set since the engagement,” Lisa bites. 

“I don’t know what you want me to do, Lisa. The party was a surprise how the fuck was I supposed to know where Sammy was going to take us?” 

“Don’t you use that kind of language at me, Dean!” She shouts, voice shrill. 

“I”m sorry,” Dean replies, exasperated. “But I’m frustrated and you’re not being flexible!” 

“I could say the same thing about you!” She retorts. Cas clears his throat in the doorway and both heads whip towards him. 

“Castiel, I’m sorry. I hope we didn’t wake you,” Lisa bumbles an apology. 

Cas watches as Dean’s eyes run down to Castiel’s midsection and his jaw pops open. Castiel’s stomach plummets, worried that he had only imagined changing pants. He looks down to find the green plaid pajama pants he found in the dresser hanging so low the skin over his hip bone and happy trail are available for anyone to see. He looks back up at Dean, who has bitten his lip and turned his head away, expression pained. 

“No, I apologize. I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Cas replies. “I’ll make myself scarce.” 

“Don’t bother,” Lisa snaps. “I’m leaving anyway.” She leans towards Dean and presses a quick kiss against his lips. His mouth stays firm as he stares stonily at the opposite wall. 

“I will see you tomorrow. Text me updates tonight, okay?” She says firmly. 

“Fine,” Dean shrugs. He rolls his eyes after she turns away. 

Lisa picks up a small duffle bag Castiel hadn’t noticed by the doorway. “See you tomorrow, Cas,” She says kindly. “Have fun tonight with the boys.” 

“Thank you,” Cas says. She picks up the bag and walks out the front door where a large black SUV is sitting. She waves to the other women in the car before climbing in. 

Cas watches this unfold through the window before turning to Dean. He’s coiled up in annoyance, with set jaw and crossed arms. He stares up at the ceiling as Cas walks towards him, but Cas catches Dean’s eyes dart to the spot of skin that had been revealed a few moments earlier. 

“You’re fighting?” Cas questions, leaning against the adjacent counter. 

“She’s being a bitch,” Dean barks. 

“Dean,” Cas scolds quietly. 

Dean sighs heavily and unfolds his arms. “We both had our bachelor and bachelorette parties planned for tonight. I guess Sammy and her maid of honor didn’t coordinate because both groups were supposed to go to Wichita. She threw a fit that we were both going to be in the same city and like called all the places we were supposed to go and canceled our reservations.” 

“That seems out of line,” Cas sympathizes. 

“Yeah, you’re fucking tellin’ me. Sammy’s supposed to be here any minute now. He’s going to be pissed.” 

“What are you going to do instead?” 

“I don’t know. We’ll figure it out when Sam gets here.” Dean sighs again and looks sideways at Castiel. His face softens. “How’d you sleep last night?” 

Cas blushes at the floor. “Not well,” Cas replies. “I kept waking up.” 

“Same,” Dean responds. 

“Why couldn’t you sleep?” Cas asks. 

“A lot on my mind,” Dean’s eyes hold Castiel’s as he replies. A lump forms in Cas’s throat, making his mouth even dryer than it was before. Their gaze breaks at the sound of the front door opening. 

“Dean, you home?” Sam’s voice sounds from the foyer. 

“In here,” Dean shouts. 

“I need some water,” Cas says quietly. Dean points towards a cabinet at the other end of the kitchen. He watches as Castiel makes his way over to the cabinet and stretches to grab a glass on the top self. When Castiel’s shirt lifts far enough to show his back dimples, Dean’s cock tells him to flick his tongue on them and suck matching hickies into the indents. Dean nearly slaps himself. 

“So what’s going on?” Sam’s question snaps Dean’s mind out its smutty thoughts and back onto the problem at hand. 

“Lisa canceled the party,” Dean explains. 

“What? Why?” Sam asks, opening the fridge. “Hey Cas, toss me a glass.” Cas throws a cup towards Sam in a perfect arc. The younger Winchester catches it gracefully and helps himself to a glass or Orange Juice. 

“I guess she didn’t want us to be in the same city.”  “That’s ridiculous, Wichita is huge we probably never would have even seen each other,” Sam protests, and turns back to the fridge in search of food. 

“Hey gigantor, could you stop thinking about your stomach for one fuckin’ second. I stock the fridge to feed people not an overgrown moose,” Dean nags. Cas snorts.

“Jess added an extra mile to our run today, Dean. I’m starving.” Dean’s irises disappear into the back of his head for an epic eye roll. 

“I can eat and solve problems at once, jerk,” Sam gibes. 

“Bitch!” Dean snaps back. 

“Guys,” Cas imporles. 

“We could go to Kanas city instead,” Sam suggest. Dean throws his head back and fills the room with a high pitched whine. “Do you have any other ideas then, Dean?” 

“No,” Dean grumbles. “But we go there a bunch - that seems boring.” 

“Well I’ll make some calls and try to get us into some different clubs but it’s so last minute I wouldn’t get your hopes up,” Sam explains. 

“Thank’s, Sammy, you’re the best.” Dean reaches over to give Sam’s shoulder a tough squeeze. 

“For the record,” Sam clarifies, “I think it’s dumb to have a bachelor party the day before the wedding. You’re gong to feel like shit tomorrow.” 

Dean shrugs and snatches the glass out of Sam’s hand. “Wanna get started early and spike this?” He says with a devilish grin. 

“No,” Sam reprimands and grabs the glass back. “You go back an overnight back and be ready to leave in an hour. We can start on the bus, if you really want.” 

“Hell yeah, Sammy!” Dean cheers. 

Sam rolls his eye’s at his older brother’s antics. “On the bright side,” He comments, “That party bus is gonna be like, half the price. They charge by the mile.” 

“I can drink to that,” Dean smirks. 

*** Two hours later the bachelor party finds themselves on a party bus headed to Kansas City. 

“Okay, guys, listen up,” Sam announces from the head of the bus, beer in hand. “We’ve got like 5 stops to hit tonight, from Lawrence to Kansas City and back. Cheers, here’s to Dean!” He lifts his bottle to the air and everyone cheers, tipping back their own drinks. 

“Liquor before beer, Sammy. You’re gonna get sick,” Dean chirps. 

“That’s why our first stop is to Benny’s to pick up some real booze before we hit the road,” Sam explains. “The beer is all I had in stock.” 

“What the hell, a beer before liquor wont kill us!” Dean throws back the bottle and finishes it off. 

Castiel sits quietly on the faux leather seat to observe the people around him. Everyone is relaxed and chatty under the dim blue lights. Castiel knows no one besides Sam and Garth, even though he was only formally introduced to Dean’s assistant moments earlier.   
Dean and Sam laugh jovially with a baby-faced Asian kid in the front of the bus. Dean catches Castiel’s eye and waves him forward. Castiel obliges and makes his way towards the trio. 

“Cas! This is our buddy Kevin. Kevin, this is Cas,” Dean introduces them. 

“Nice to meet you, man,” Kevin shakes his hand casually. 

“You as well,” Cas comments. 

“I met Kevin just last Spring in my biostatistical consulting class. He was just a freshman. I was in there ‘cause I had to take a science course. He was in there ‘cause he’s a freakin genius,” Sam says. 

“I was AP in high school,” Kevin elaborates, clearly proud. 

“So Kevin tutored dear Sammy here,” Dean loops an arm around Kevin’s shoulder, “And in turn we taught him out to have a good time.” 

“They got me a fake ID,” Kevin smiles gleefully. 

“And I don't regret it for one second,” Dean removes his arm from Kevin and switches it over to Cas. Unlike how dapper Dean had looked at the rehearsal dinner, tonight he was dressed in a tight fitting black shirt and snug jeans. He had wanted to wear a flannel and his favorite jeans, Cas recalls, but Sam had insisted he at least “try to dress like a fuckin’ human Dean, not some plaid wearing boonie.”   
Dean’s warm arm rests lightly over Castiel’s shoulders. The pressure is reassuring in such a strange environment, and maybe it was an accident, but Dean’s fingers trace the skin where they rest on Castiel’s biceps. It sends a cold chill down his spine. 

“Let’s see… Who else can we introduce you?” Dean lazily searches the space for another friend to meet Cas. Even though his body language is relaxed, Dean has a hard time meeting Castiel’s eyes after the previous night’s escapades. 

“See that guy with his head buried in the bong back there?” Dean nudges Cas. Cas nods blindly, completely ignorant as to what on Earth a bong was. 

“Hey, Ash!” Dean hollers. “C’mere.” A grungy man in cut-offs and a oily mullet meanders over to the two men. 

“Ash, this is my buddy, Cas. Cas, this is our resident stoner, Ash.”   
 “Hello, Brother,” Ash says. 

Cas cocks his head. “We have no biological relationship.”

Ash laughs steadily. “A dry sense of humor. I can get on board with that. You’re cool, Cas.” 

Dean extends his arms. “You’re cool, Cas,” He parrots. Cas smirks at the gesture. 

The bus glides to a stop before Cas and Ash can continue introductions. “Stop número uno,” Sam calls. “Run in, buy one bottle of booze, and come back. Everybody out!” 

Cas rushes out of the bus with the crowd but stops dead in front of the unimposing building. It’s the same bar he had watched Dean drink himself into an unintelligible stupor, and nearly walk into a semi. His stomach churns with anxiety. 

“Get moving, Cas!” Cas jumps as Ash slaps him on the ass. After shaking off the surprise, he follows into the bar like the rest. 

“So Sam tells me you come for my top shelf bottles,” Benny dresses the brothers as they approach the bar. “Ill sell ‘em to you, but you’re going to have to deal with that drama in the corner.” Benny gestures at the old timey juke box in the corner, an all-too-knowing smirk on his face. 

Against it leans Jo and a plucky looking redhead, grinning sinisterly. 

“You assholes thought you were going to sneak off to your bachelor’s party without us, huh?” Jo speaks first, covering ground quickly to swat at Dean’s arm. 

“Hey!” He defends himself. “I didn’t plan this, Sammy did. Besides, you’re girls.” 

“You sound so grade-school, Dean,” The redhead pipes up. “Boys and girls can’t play together, blah, blah.” 

“We’re your friends, we’re coming.” Jo decides.

“Jo, you know we love you, but…” Sam trail off at the lethal look radiating from Jo’s tiny features. 

“But nothing, Winchester. You know we can party just as well as any of these dues,” She argues.

The redhead smirks, “Probably better.” 

“Charlie’s right,” Jo nods at her friend. “Ash there is going to take two more hits and pass out for the night, and Garth looks like he could hold approximately 1 shot before blacking out.” 

“Hey!” Garth protest. 

Jo grins triumphantly as Sam holds his hand up in surrender. “Fine, fine,” Sam concedes. “As long as it’s okay with Dean.” 

Dean sighs. “Who am I to turn you girls down?”

“Dean you big softie,” Charlie beams, drawing him in for a hug. She catches Castiel’s eye from over it shoulder. After drawing back from Dean she flits over to Cas and extends her hand. 

“I’m Charlie, professional BFF. Are you Cas?”

“I am.” 

“Wow,” She winks at him. “You are dreamy. No wonder Dean doesn’t want to share you with the rest of us.” 

She leaves Cas, standing red faced and tongue tied, to go to the bar. Everybody purchases their desired bottle of booze. Except Dean. According to the party the groom-to-be is not allowed to pay for his own booze at his Bachelor’s Party. “That’s just not how it fuckin’ works,” Garth explains. 

Cas walks out with a round bottle of something called Patron and his wallet $50 lighter. “That’ll make you have a good time,” Benny had handed over the bottle with a wink. 

The crew piles back into the bus with a fatherly “Stay safe, all,” Ringing in their ears from Benny. Cas finds himself wedged right in-between Sam and Charlie, only several feet away from Dean. 

Sam stands and places one hand on the ceiling to balance himself. “Okay everyone, one stop down. Bottoms up!” 

Cas looks down at the amber liquid in his tiny class. He tips it back and lets the liquid run run down the back of his throat, simmering all the way. As they bounce down the Kansas interstate, Castiel lets himself be handed other drinks and waits for the warmth to overtake him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will be posted within a few days. They were supposed to be one chapter but it got too long so I split them
> 
> As always, thanks for reading and please feel free to leave feedback :)


	9. Chapter 9

Sam decides their second stop will be at a fading BP gas station just off the innerstate. “Alright, energy drinks for everyone!” The younger Winchester hollers. 

“I’m not convinced he has this entirely planned out,” Cas mutters to Charlie as they unload. Charlie cracks out a laugh and nudges him down the stairs. 

Only recently familiar with the effects of alcohol, and utterly foreign to the concept of energy drinks, Castiel follows Dean’s lead. 

“You more of a Red Bull or Monster guy?” Dean holds up two different cans. Castiel eyes them suspiciously. The larger black one is rather daunting with a jagged green M. The blue one is far more friendly looking. Castiel points at it. 

“Red Bull it is,” Dean reaches into the refrigerator to grab two more and hands the lot over to Cas. 

“Three?” Cas asks, incredulously. 

“Hell yeah, man. That shit gives you wings!” 

Castiel holds the can at eye level. “How does it accomplish that?” He muses. 

Dean stares at him, grin half cocked in confusion. “Cas, it’s their logo.” Cas lifts and eyebrow, and Dean continues. “You know, like their slogan.” 

“I see,” Cas comments and continues to eye the cans suspiciously. 

Everyone pays for their beverages and loads back into the bus. Sam has everyone throw the drinks they’re not immediately having into a large cooler. 

“Every had a Jäger Bomb, Cas?” He asks. Cas shakes his head.

“Aw man, you haven’t LIVED!” Dean exclaims. At that, Sam goes about pouring a shot from the largest bottle Cas had ever seen, and dropping it into the energy drink. 

“Drink up!” Dean commands. Cas obliges. 

It’s not bad. 

“This is good,” He comments to the brothers. They high five.

“Hell yeah it is!” Dean slaps his back, fingers resting on his shoulder blade for moments after the contact should have ended. “After about two more of those anything is gonna taste good.” 

They continue down the highway, growing rowdier and rowdier every mile. They set up a rickety table in the middle of the bus that bounces every time the driver hits a bump. Dean sets up a pyramid of red cups at one end, at the other end Kevin does the same. 

“How’s your pong game, Cas?” Dean asks.   
 “Rusty,” Cas fibs. “Remind me how to play?” 

Charlie interjects. “Didn’t you guys go to school together, Dean? Shouldn’t you know how good his pong game is?” 

Dean ignores her. Ash leans over to whisper something in response and they both laugh. The dim blue lights hide Castiel’s blush.   
 Dean elaborates on the rules to Castiel and they decided to play as a team. Kevin and Jo stand opposing them. Kevin and Dean are mediocre, Jo is outstanding. 

Cas starts off truly, truly horrible. 

But quickly, he catches on. His depth perception is excellent, and Cas sends up a little ‘thank you’ to heaven for providing angels with superb human senses.   
By the end of the game, the teams are nearly matched. Dean and Cas have one cup to hit, and Jo and Kevin have two. Dean’s hand rests in the small of Castiel’s back as throws for the final shot. 

“FUCK US,” Jo shouts at the slosh of the ball. Dean reaches out and throws his arms around Cas, lifting him in the air. They do a little spin. 

When Dean sets Cas back down, Jo stares from across the table, eyebrow raised. Dean coughs awkwardly, and reaches to the cup to drain the remaining content. Castiel’s previous blush returns with a vengeance. 

“What should we play next,” Jo asks, with a grinning knowingly at the floor. 

“Depends on how quickly you wanna get fucked up?” Dean replied, which is how, 10 minutes later, he and Jo were both staring down a line of 10 vodka shots. 

“What do you weight again, Harevell?” He taunts. “110?” 

“If you’re worried i’m going to kick your ass because I’m small you’ve got another thing coming, Winchester,” She gleams, radiating competitiveness. 

“You guys are dumbasses,” Sam chortles into his beer. “Okay, you ready? One, two,” He pauses. 

“Three.” 

Jo and Dean lift shots to their lips like madmen. Dean drinks faster, but Jo is more strategic and already has the next glass to her lips by the time the first one is empty. 

“FUCK,” Jo shouts and slams her shot down on the table, victorious. “Kiss my ass, Dean! Shit,” She ads, “That’s a lot of fuckin’ vodka. My eyes are watering.” 

Dean laughs and sets his head on the corner of the table in a squat. “Fuck,” He agrees. “You win, Harvelle. What’s my punishment?” 

“Oh no,” She grins triumphantly. “I’m holding this over your head all night. I’ll let you know when I figure it out.” Castiel is the only one who notices how her eyes dart towards him. 

“Shit, Dean,” Kevin laughs. “You’re going to be totally sloshed in about two minutes.” 

“Already there, Kev.” Dean waves his hands wildly. He commands, “You go.” 

“I go what?” Kevin asks. 

“Drink.” Dean points at Cas. “You too, blue eyes. Wanna get you drunk” 

“Fine, we’re not doing ten though,” Kevin clarifies. “Like, five tops. I’m not trying to go blind.” 

Sam refills five shot glasses with the same flavored Smirnoff Dean and Jo had used. Castiel’s stomach flipped as Sam lined the glasses up. The task of drinking so much seemed formidable. On the bench, Dean leaned back with his arm swung haphazardly around Jo. Everyone else either stood around the table to watch the fun, or entertained themselves in the back of the bus. Charlie had brought some type of board game, and they were incorporating a drinking element. 

Cas faces Kevin, and Sam counts down the way he had done for Dean and Jo. Kevin dominates and finished the line when Cas is only one his third. Warmth spreads down his arms and tingles the tips of his fingers by the time he drowns the last drop. 

Cas stands wobbly. “I’m done,” He announces. Dean stands behind him and grips his shoulders like a coach to a player. 

“Atta boy, champ,” He jokes. “Get ‘em next time.” Cas laughs and leans into the pressure, but overestimates how much room he has and falls into Dean. Dean snatches Cas before he hits the ground, one hand under his armpit and the other squeezing his back. Cas shivers at the touch.   
“Already knocked off your ass, huh?” Dean asks, more softly than he had intended. 

“Unintentionally,” Cas nods sincerely. “I was unaware how potent vodka could be. Also, fast acting,” He adds as an afterthought. 

“Yeah, shit works quick,” Dean agrees, voice close to Castiel’s ears. Cas presses back into Deans chest. 

The bus slides to a stop. “STRIP CLUBBBBB,” Garth screams. Cas and Dean are jolted from their spot. 

“Uh,” Dean blunders, refusing to meet Castiel’s gaze. “Lets get goin’.” Cas nods at the floor, swallowing heavily. 

The club is nestled into the nightlife district of Kansas City. The dark buildings are in close quarters with only thin alleys to separate them. Outside the club hangs a flickering purple neon sigh that reads “HellHounds.” Behind a paper that reads “18 only,” the windows are completely blacked out. 

Garth and Kevin are the only ones stopped by the bouncer. “Baby face and smart ass,” Dean smirks at they wait inside for the others to catch up. “Garth probably mouthed off to the guy and now he’s gonna get a hard time.” 

“What’re they asking for?” Cas asks, words starting to slur. 

Dean cocks his head to one side, grin tilting up. “You serious, Cas? Their IDs, dude.” Dean begins to laugh and grips Castiel’s shoulder. “I’m fuckin’ drunk and I think you’re messing with me.” 

Cas laughs at Dean’s behavior. “I assure you I’m not,” He says. 

Still chucking to himself, Dean rubs Castiel’s shoulder. He squeezes the skin and massages into it. “You’re -“ Dean starts and then stops himself.   
“I’m what, Dean?” Castiel captivates his gaze. 

“You-re -“ Emerald eyes rake Castiel’s body head to toe. “Nice, Cas. You’re nice. Lookin’, and stuff.” 

Cas holds his eyes to check for sincerity, but he’s met with intoxicated loopiness. “You’re very drunk, Dean,” He says sadly. 

“I’m drunk, Cas, not blind.” Dean squeezes again tightly before letting go, “C’mone. Lessee where Sammy ran off’to.” 

They found Sam in a booth he had reserved, prepaying for Dean’s lap dance. “Lap dance?” Cas asked, when he heard the news. 

“Yeah,” Sam explained, “The dancers come and grind all up on you. Expensive as hell, but it’s his bachelor party after all.” 

A waitress brought a tray of amber shots for the party. Cas lifts the tiny glass to his nose and draws back at the reeking smell. From the other end of the table, Dean bursts out laughing. “Here dude,” He reaches across everyone to hand Cas a lime. “Don’t smell it, just drink and then suck on that.” 

Cas obeys. 

“This tastes better than the vodka,” He says, mostly to Dean. 

“It’s tequila, the good shit too.” Dean jiggles his legs up and down in his seat. 

“Dean, is that glitter on your lips?” Cas calls. 

Dean wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “Shit, yeah. They put’tit in the drinks here,” He says. 

Sam smirks, “How are you even on your feet right now, Dean?” 

“I dunno Sammy but I wanna go I wanna DO something, not’just sit.” He babbles, bouncing his legs. At that, a very pretty blonde approaches them with narrow features. 

“Dean Winchester?” She reads off a tiny paper. 

“Me,” Deans had shoots in air. 

“Hey handsome,” Her voice turns sugary fast as lightening. “I’m Gilda, I hear it’s your special day.” 

“Hello, beautiful,” A voice chirps that is definitely not Dean. Cas head swivels to find the source. 

Charlie covers her hands over her mouth. “Oops,” she grins sheepishly. “I’m sorry, I’m a little tipsy. You are beautiful, though.” 

“So are you,” Glinda’s eyes trace over Charlie, ending with a wink. Charlie’s mouth pops open. She turns from Charlie, however, and takes long, sultry steps to Dean. 

Castiel’s stomach flops at the subtle way Dean opens his legs as she approaches, and utterly plummets when she straddles him. Suddenly, the strawberry-vanilla infused room is suffocating, and the purple lights claustrophobic. As Glinda sways her hips and sweeps over Dean, Cas finds it harder and harder to breath. He tries to loosen the skinny blue tie around his throat, but it doesn't budge. 

When Dean looks up from behind Glinda’s bra and meets his eyes, Cas jumps up. “Bathroom,” He mumbles at the nearest person. 

Cas winds his way through the maze of poles and lonely men to find the nearest restroom. He bursts into the clean, white light and rushes to the sink. The taste of tequila lingers at the back of his throat. Cas shovels water in his mouth, trying to rid himself of the fiery flavor. 

He catches sight of a tray of mints and grabs three, unwrapping them all and popping them in his mouth. Cas examines himself in the mirror. He’s entirely discombobulated; with flushed, sticky looking skin and tussled hair. A fine layer of glitter covers parts of his face. He leans over the faucet again to splash his face with water. When he looks back up, Gabriel is standing behind him in the mirror.   Cas shouts. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” Gabe begins without greetings. “That man is blindly intoxicated and you’re trying to freshen up for the senior prom in here. Get the fuck out there and get down to business.” 

Cas leans back against the sink. “You scared me, Gabriel.” 

“I don’t give a shit. You’re scaring me! You know you have like, 36 hours left, right Cas?” 

Cas rubs his face with his hands. “I’m trying not to think about it, actually.” 

“That’s dumb as fuck. I thought you were making process, but Dean’s out there getting turned on by someone that is definitely not you.” 

“I don’t know what you want me to do, Gabriel,” Cas snaps, growing angry. 

“I want you to stop being a chicken shit and go make a move, god dammit!” Gabe shouts. 

“I’m trying, dick, I thought I did last night but I must have interpreted it!” Cas yells back. 

Gabriel pauses. “Did you just call me a dick?” Cas shrugs. Gabe breaks out into a gleeful smile. “That’s exactly what I’m fucking talkin’ about, Cassy! Use some of that passion. Focus that ‘dick,’ energy somewhere else, if you know what I mean.” Cas rolls his eyes. 

“How do you think I should do that?” Cas asks tiredly. 

“Well first, I think you shouldn’t let Dean drink anymore for, like, two fuckin’ hours ‘cause it’s a damn miracle the boy hasn't blacked out yet. He probably drinks too much, actually. If we make it out of this mess without you becoming a seven headed demon we need to talk about that-“ 

“Gabriel!” Cas warns.   
 “Right, anyway. Give him a shit ton of water for a while. But before you leave here I want you to go to the bar and buy their best tequila. I’m talking top shelf shit, got it?” Gabe reaches into his pocket and hands Cas two $100 bills. “Tequila makes your clothes come off,” He winks. “Later on tonight, you drink that and see where it takes you.” He winks again. 

“Stop winking at me,” Cas crabs. 

“I’m winking because I know exactly what happens when two people who have chemistry drink tequila together.” 

“So what happens tomorrow? Namely, when I wake up and Dean’s supposed to get married and tonight had no affect on that,” Cas sighs, exasperated. 

Gabe chews his lip, “I’m still working on that part of the plan, hotshot. Gimme time.” 

“We do not have time, Gabriel.” 

“We have until approximately noon tomorrow, when all the wedding panic sets in. Or, even better, like six when pretty boy is at the end of the isle. You worry about tonight, I’ll come up with a plan for tomorrow.” 

Cas frowns, “Alright.” 

“That’s the spirit!” Gabe cheers. “Now go get ‘em, tiger.” 

Cas leaves Gabriel in the bathroom without another word. He goes to the bar and purchase, as Gabriel had requested, the top notch shit. Luckily, none of his friends notice when he sneaks the bottle back into their booth. 

“Where is everybody?” Cas asks Sam, when he notices half of their party is missing. 

“Uh, Jo stepped outside with Ash because she said the smell was making her nauseous. Kevin is with some other guys, watching the dancers. Gilda went on break and she’s out back with Charlie,” He chuckles. 

“‘Ss next?” Dean asks. 

Sam looks to Cas, and then back at Dean. “What’s that?” He says, trying to stay composed. 

“Next, what?” Dean asks again, more urgently. 

“What’s next?” Sam clarifies. Dean nods vigorously. “We’re gonna hang out around here, Dean. There’s a lot of awesome bars and stuff in the area.” 

“Don’t feel good,” Dean states. 

“No shit, dumbass,” Sam chortles. “You don't just drink that much and go on like normal.”

“I can wait while he recovers on the bus,” Cas suggests. “Then you and the others would be free to continue with your fun until Dean is able to join you again.”

Sam nods slowly, contemplating. “Yeah, okay, that sounds like a plan. I’m gonna shoot everyone a text about it. I meant to tell them anyway that if we get split up to make sure they’re back on the bus by 4. What’s your number, Cas, I don’t have it?”

“I do not have a number,” Cas says, even though its more of a question. 

Sam stares incredulously. “You’re a weird guy, Cas. Cool, but Jesus who doesn’t have a cell phone. Even ASH has a phone.” 

Cas shrugs off the speculation and waits for Sam to finish sending his message before placing Dean’s arm over his shoulder. They move slowly to the door, Cas carrying the weight and Sam stepping in when necessary. Dean stumbles and slides over his own two feet the whole way back to the bus. 

“Pumme down,” He commands once they are inside. 

“Just drop him,” Sam mutters. Cas shoves Dean towards the bench and sits him down. “Canni ‘ave some wata?” 

“Of course, Dean.” Cas digs a water bottle from out of the cooler and opens the lid to hand it to Dean. He spills half of it on his shirt, and looks up wide eyed in fear at Cas. 

“Spilled it,” He says. 

“It’s okay. I can get you another one.” 

Sam shakes his head. “If you’re sure you can handle him, Kev just text me from a club down the street that I’d like to swing by.” 

“It’s no problem, Sam. Go have a good time. I’ll wait here then.” Sam scampers out the door, ducking under the frame on his way out to keep his head safe. 

Cas turns back to Dean. “Can I get you anything?” 

Dean grins wildly. “Tha’ sweet ass, angel.” 

“You’ve been very suggestive with me tonight, Dean,” Castiel comments quietly. 

Dean tries to shrug, but throws one shoulder up farther than he had anticipated and looses his balance. “I liiiike you,” He says, drawing back up. 

Cas smiles sweetly at his feet. “I like you too, Dean. Very much.” He watches as Dean bats at the amulet around his neck. “What about Lisa?” Cas asks tentatively. 

“Fuckin’ bitch,” Dean whines. “Naggin’. We dun get along.” 

“Then why are you marrying her?” 

“I mean,” Dean stares off into space like he’s forgotten how to speak. “She’s smart. ’N hot. ’N cool. ’N ma dad.” 

“Lisa is your dad?” Cas cocks an eyebrow. 

“No! Dumbie,” Dean swats his hand at Cas. “Came inta my room and called me a faggot a buncha times. Then I met Lisa.” 

“I don’t understand,” Cas says, but he’s interrupted by Ash dragging Jo up the steps in the same fashion he had done to Dean. 

“I have one Jo for delivery,” Ash says, then bends over laughing at his own joke. Cas rushes over and takes Jo from him, playing her opposite Dean. 

“Not surprised Winchester is already in here. These two both think they can drink more than they actually can.”

“Are they going to be okay?” Cas asks, concerned. 

“Yeah they’ll be fine. Give ‘em an hour or so. I’d say let them sleep the night off but they’d be after our blood if we let them sleep through Dean’s bachelor party.” 

Cas sits quietly with his hands folded in his lap next to Dean. From the tinted window he watches young adults trip and stumble down the uneven sidewalk. Groups of men and women alike laugh and joke amongst themselves. Two men disappear behind a large dumpster and return minutes later; one buckling his belt and the other tucking his shirt back in. 

Cas looses track of time people watching and thinking. He snaps back to the moment when Dean moves next to him. 

“Hng,” Dean groans. 

“Good evening,” Cas replies. 

“Shit,” Dean shoots up, “Did I black out? Is it my wedding day?” 

“Kind of, and no. You an Jo had a shots race and you both got sick. She’s asleep over there,” Cas gestures at the zonked out blonde. “But it’s still your bachelor party night.”

Dean rests his head back on the bench. “Did I at least win?” He smirks.

“No, Jo kicked your ass.” 

Dean laughs as he reaches out blindly to the floor for a water bottle. His fingers brush the lid and he tips the top back to drink. Castiel watches a drop drip off his lips and down his jawline. 

Dean sits back up again, slowly. “So now what? Where is everyone?” 

“They’re out exploring the bars. Whatever you would like, Dean, is what’s next.” 

“I wanna drink more,” He grumbles into his palms.   
 Castiel pauses, “Are you certain?” Dean nods and reaches for the water bottle again. “Well, I purchased this at the strip club, I wasn’t sure if you would be well enough to drink it.” Cas draws the rounded bottle out of a paper bag and Dean’s eyes light up. 

“Hell yeah! That’s the good stuff, Cas.” Dean tips back the rest of the water bottle and hands a full one to Cas. “Drink that,” He commands. “We need the bottle and if you drink it now you’ll feel a little less shitty tomorrow.” 

Dean reaches into the cooler and pulls out a bottle of Pineapple juice. He pours half into the water bottle, and tops that off with tequila. He gives it a shake and takes a swig. 

“Whoo!” He shouts, “That’s strong as shit. Lemme do yours, Cas.” Cas hands over his now empty water bottle, and Dean fills it to the same ratio. 

“What are we about to do, Dean?” Cas asks doubtfully. 

“We’re gonna make Kansas City our bitch. Cheers, Cas,” Dean holds up his bottle in a toast, and Cas touches it with his own. They drink.

***

The run into Sam. There’s lots of hugging. Dean kisses Sam on the forehead and calls him “Baby brother.” 

***

They shove the water bottles into their pants to avoid getting them taken away by the bouncer. They point to one another and laugh at the excessive budge over their groin. 

***

They’re sitting at the back of a booth, Dean’s arm slung casually around Castiel’s shoulder. Cas tucks his face into Dean’s side when he laughs. 

***

They’re dancing. Cas presses back into Dean. Dean’s cock rubs hard against Castiel’s back. Dean holds onto Castiel’s hip bones, and leans over to plant a sloppy kiss on his bare neck. 

*** 

They’re back out on the streets. The cool air helps dry Castiel’s sweaty face. Dean reaches out and grabs his butt, fingers rubbing to grope the area between Castiel’s thighs. Cas grinds back against him. 

*** 

Dean’s ears ring in the too-quiet bus. He cranks up the radio. Kevin throws a shoe at him to turn it off. The shoe misses by 7 feet. Cas pats the spot next to him, inviting Dean to lie down. 

*** 

The cabs take forever to get to Benny’s. Dean runs over and pees on the now-vacant party bus. He thanks Sam sloppily for the party. Cas begins to laugh at everything. He holds the nearly empty tequila bottle in his hand. 

*** 

Cas asks the driver to turn on the radio. Dean groans when it’s Kesha, but laughs at the way Cas dances in his seat. 

*** 

Cas slams his arm against the front door as they try to stumble in. Slowly, he and Dean find the kitchen, where Cas collapses into the island bar stool. Dean sets the Patron on the counter, and it lands with a slam. 

“We should finishitoff,” Cas points. Dean nods vigorously and grabs the bottle, hopping onto the stool next to Cas. He almost slips, and they both bend over laughing. Dean composes himself before he takes the first gulp. 

He hands the bottle over to Cas. Dean rests his palm against Castiel’s thigh and watches his Adam’s Apple bob as he takes a drink. Heat rushes to Dean’s cock when Castiel traces the opening of the bottle with his tongue. Cas turns to Dean, drops of tequila hanging onto the corner of his mouth and dripping down his chin. 

“Would ya like thelastsip, Dean?” Dean nods and accepts the bottle, eyes never leaving Castiel’s mouth. He tips his head back and holds it up until the last drop drains out. When he looks back to Cas, the Patron is still resting on his face. 

His cock presses against the denim more urgently. Nervousness and liquor run through Dean’s blood like adrenaline, and his heart races against nothing but itself. 

“Dean?” Cas asks, tentatively. 

Dean swallows and takes a firm hold of Castiel’s face. Cas freezes, eyes locked on Dean’s expression. Dean leans forward swiftly and sucks the amber liquid off Castiel’s jaw. 

Castiel’s reaction comes as a shock to both of them. He yelps so loudly Dean jumps back off the stool. “Sorry, Cas, sorr-“ He apologizes frantically, but Castiel is up and striding towards him. 

Cas backs Dean up agains the counter. He grabs Dean’s shirt and presses sloppy, open mouth kisses against his mouth. “Fuck,” Dean moans in-between breaths. Cas moves from lips to neck to jaw to collarbone, sucking a wet mark into each spot. 

“Fuck, Cas,” Dean moans again. He tugs on the back of Castiel’s shirt, “Shirt,” He says. Cas breaks from their kiss to lift his shirt over his head. Dean stares at him, opened mouth. “You’re sofuckin’ hot,” He says, and reaches forward to lift Cas onto the island. “So, so fuckin’ sexy. You look like ‘a angel.” 

Cas wraps his arms around Dean’s neck, and Dean’s around his chest. Every time Dean’s tongue intertwines with his own, electricity sparks every inch of Castiel’s body like voltage, from his head down his back and even out to his fingers. He’s filled with more vitality in his moment than any of his other time on earth. 

Cas hands slip up Dean’s shirt, and Dean pulls it off before Cas has the opportunity to ask. “You’re beautiful,” Cas says breathlessly. Dean grips his face and kisses a clear ‘thank you.’ 

If his tongues had been an electric shock, than Castiel’s naked chest against Dean’s own was nothing short of a lightening storm. They press and scratch against one another, passion and aggression and affection expressing themselves in a way words could not. 

“Not enough,” Dean whispers. “Not enough, want more. Want you. Want more of you, angel.” Cas nods in agreement. 

“Naked,” is all Cas says. Dean pulls back and holds Castiel’s face. 

“You sure?” He asks. 

“Never been more sure of anything, Dean,” Cas confirms. Dean kisses him again, this time slowly and full of trust. 

“Let’s go upstairs,” Dean whispers, and plants another gentle kiss before pulling Cas to the stairwell. 

Cas follows Dean up the stairs. He smiles lazily through his drunken haze at how beautiful Dean is; the way his shoulders run down to his lean waste in a symmetrical triangle, and the way his ass sways when he walks. 

Cas crosses the threshold of the bedroom and Dean pounces, pinning him to the door and trapping Cas there with his hips. Dean slams their mouths together and their teeth clash. Cas laughs through it, a deep and throaty chuckle. 

“You’re so fucking sexy, Cas,” Dean says, rutting against him after each word. “So. Fuckin’. Beautiful.” 

They fumble at one another’s belts, too distracted by exploring the other’s lips to make any progress. Cas makes progress first, tugging Dean’s belt off and tossing it on the floor. “Bed,” He hisses. 

“Yes, sir,” Dean complies, will lost to Castiel’s authority. Cas grips his face and gives Dean one final kiss before pushing him towards the bed. He kicks off his own slacks before climbing in after Dean. 

Dean grips himself through his boxers, staring wide eyed at Cas. Cas licks his lips at the curve of Dean’s cock against his stomach, the head peaking out under the seam of his underwear. 

“Angel, you're killin’ me with that face.” 

“Dean,” Cas pauses, “I feel like you should know I’ve never done this before. With anyone.” 

“You’re- you’re’a virgin?” Cas nods in response. Dean throws his head back with a wet, almost pained moan. “That’s the sexiest fuckin’ thing I’ve ever heard, oh my GOD. I get to fuck you as a virgin.” Cas blushes, red heat flushing down to color his abdomen. 

Dean sits up and lays Cas down on his back. “Don’t worry, angel,” He whispers, fingers running lightly up and down Castiel’s side, “You’re safe with me.” 

Cas holds Dean’s face, sapphire eyes exploding as they face the emerald. “I know.” 

Its Dean’s turn to bush and he adverts his eyes from Cas. “Well, since it’s your first time, you should - you know.” 

“I’m afraid I don’t know, Dean,” Cas cocks his head. 

“Well, top. You should top.” 

“Oh,” Cas pauses, weighing the options. “Yes, would probably be best.” 

“I’ve got lube and stuff,” Dean hops up and goes to his sock drawer, pulling out a bottle of clear liquid. “It doesn’t smell great but it does the job.” 

Cas extends his arms, inviting Dean back to the bed. Dean happily obliges and wedges himself against Cas, cock resting on his hip. 

“So does that mean you've never given head before, either?” Dean asks against his neck, planting sloppy kisses on Castiel’s muscular skin. 

“No, I’m afraid not.” 

Dean looks at him, wicked grin spread on his handsome face. “How about I show you how it’s done?” 

“I would like that, very much.” 

Dean crouches over Cas, kissing from his neck down his chest. He draws little circles with his tongue and sucks wet spots into the smooth skin as he moves lower over Castiel’s stomach. Dean spends a lot of time at his waistband, tongue flicking under it and teasing the sensitive skin. 

“Dean,” Cas voice croaks with anticipation. 

Dean pulls back the boxers slowly, and Castiel’s dick bounces out with a satisfying smack against his stomach. Dean stares at the large, flushed cock in front of him. Precum drips onto Castiel’s happy trail and Dean licks it off. 

Dean takes Castiel’s cock in his hands and Cas whimpers. He flicks his tongue back and forth over the opening and kisses it softly. Dean looks up to watch Cas for a reaction as he places his lips over the head. 

Cas seethes, back arching over the sheets. Dean sucks hard, the wet, warm, pressure sending Cas into ecstasy. Cas shouts out Dean’s name when his cock hits the back of Dean’s throat.   
“Like it when I swallow you, angel?” Dean looks up, sloppily. He spits on the cock and goes back to work. Cas answers with a series of moans and frantic “yes’s.” 

“I’m going to orgasm, Dean,” Cas says, moments later. 

Dean sucks hard again before replying, “Good, enjoy it. I’ll get you hard again.” He licks the member from base to tip before swallowing Cas whole. 

Cas cums with a shout, gripping Dean’s hair and spilling into his mouth. Dean catches it in his mouth and swallows, then licks any remainder off Castiel’s cock to lean up. Cas shuts his eyes and pants as Dean kisses his way back up Cas’s body. 

“Why do people do anything other than have sex?” He asks Dean, who laughs breathlessly. 

“Beats me.” Dean lies on his back and grins happily at Cas. 

“I suppose its your turn now?” Cas asks, a sultry look in his eyes. Dean nods eagerly. Cas descends to Dean’s thighs and palms at his cock through the fabric. “I apologize if it won’t be as satisfactory as yours,” Cas says. 

“Don’t care,” Dean grunts, “Just want you.” Cas removes the cock without hesitation and gives it a few tugs before licking it. It tastes vaguely salty and earthy, but definitively Dean. He puts his lips over it and bobs his head. Dean ‘mmm’s’ happily. 

Cas chokes more than Dean did, but grins triumphantly when he manages a deep-throat, and earns his reward from Dean by means of a guttural moan. The noise is the first spark back to his own cock, and Cas reaches down to play with himself as he sucks down Dean. 

“I wanna cum with you in me, angel,” Dean says when Cas starts to speed up. Cas nods, cock still poking into his cheek. He reaches around Dean’s hips and wiggles his fingers by Dean’s opening. He looks up for a sign of approval, and Dean nods. Cas slides a finger in. 

Dean wiggles down onto his finger. “Feels nice,” He sighs. Cas pumps his finger several times before adding another. He scissors the two around, loosening Dean. 

“Do you do this a lot?” He asks. 

“What?” Dean opens his eyes. “Like, ass stuff? Only by myself.” His voice is bashful. 

“There’s no shame in that,” Cas comforts, and swallows his cock one final time before removing his lips with a pop. He kneels by Dean, cock sticking out. “Are you ready?” He asks. Dean reaches up and draws him forward for a long kiss. 

“Fuck yeah,” Dean whispers. 

“Will you put the lube on me?” Cas asks. Dean reaches out to squeeze some of the sticky liquid onto his palms. He rubs his against his hands, warming it up, before reaching out and stroking Cas. 

Cas grabs Dean’s legs and wraps them around his waist. Dean squirms around to raise his hips, and Cas places the head of his cock at Dean’s entrance. Dean thrusts his hips up lightly, “C’mone, angel, you’re killin’ me. Want you so bad.” 

Cas holds his dick steady and pushes into Dean. He slides in gently and hesitates before drawing back and thrusting. 

“Holy fuck,” Cas moans. He humps lightly at Dean, giving both himself and Dean time to adjust to the tightness and pressure. Cas presses himself all he way in and cries out. 

“More, Cas, want more,” Dean whimpers. 

Cas obliges, and begins thrust faster and harder into Dean. He spits on his palm and reaches down to jerk Dean off in rhythm to his hips. Cas leans down and props himself up with his free arm so he and Dean are lying chest to chest. Dean reaches out and scratches frantically at his back. 

They lose track of who’s moans are who’s, of who’s yelling “fuck” and who’s yelling “oh my God.” The only sounds that resister are the steady slap of Castiel’s hips against Dean’s legs and their names being called out a sex-crazed cry. 

When Castiel’s rhythm grows more frantic and erratic, he grips Dean tighter and waits for the man to spill over. At the first sight of Dean’s orgasm, Cas pulls out and joins Dean, watching their cum mix together on Dean’s toned midsection. 

Cas collapses on the pillow next to Dean. He watches Dean mop himself up with one of their boxers, and then discard it on the floor. Dean rolls over to face him. 

“Was so good,” He comments, voice slurred with alcohol, sex, and exhaustion. “We should do it ‘gain when we’re sober.” Cas stretches to kiss him in agreement, before settling into the sheets. The last thing Cas remembers before falling asleep is Dean drawing him closer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! 22 page chapter. I hope you all enjoy it :)
> 
> As always, kudos/comments keep me going. I love the responses! Also, the end of this fic is in sight! Its been so fun to write and thank you for sticking around to see it through the end.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for homophobia/slurs.

Dean and Cas were both dead to the world seven hours later, which is why they didn't hear the smack of the front door closing when Sam and John Winchester let themselves in. 

“Dad, I really don’t think I need your help getting Dean,” Sam sighs, annoyance weighing heavily on his tone. 

“Nonsense, he’s my oldest son and it’s his wedding day. I’m gonna be here.” 

Sam gulps nervously and swipes his phone open for the umpteenth time since he and John set out on the rode, 15 minutes ago. His messages for Dean remain opened. 

“Why don’t you scramble us some eggs, Dad, and I’ll go wake up Dean.” Sam suggests. But his uneasiness leaks into his tone, and John eyes him suspiciously. 

“What’s going on, Sam? Dean got another girl up there or somethin’?” 

“What?” Sam’s voice gets pitchy. “Of course not!” 

John turns his hips slowly to square up to Sam. Even though Sam towered a head over his father, the dark look in John’s eyes chilled his blood. “Then why don’t you want me upstairs?” 

Sam did his best to speak airily. “It doesn’t really matter, I just thought I’d spare you seeing all the puke thats probably stinking up the room.” 

John snorts and gives Sam's shoulder a clap. "Fine, but if I see a girl sneaking out these doors it's on you."

Sam waits for him to walk into the kitchen before bounding up the stairs, three at a time. He listens to Dean’s door for a moment before tapping lightly. The door swings open without a noise, and Sam walks in.

Dean lies on his back, left arm flayed to the side where Castiel has nested himself snugly against Dean’s torso, face tucked into his skin.   
“Aw, fuck, Dean.” In thee strides Sam is next to the bed, gripping his older brother’s shoulder and shaking him awake. “Dean, get up.” 

“Wha- wha’ ’s happen?” Dean jars up, causing Cas to slip from his position. Dean blinks dumbly at the change in environment, and Cas stays still, lying on his back, rubbing his eyes. 

“Sammy, what’re you doin’ here?” Dean’s hoarse voice cracks. 

“Dad is here, moron,” Sam explains, reaching into the dresser and pulling out the first pair of sweatpants and shirt he can find. “He wants to make you breakfast or some bullshit fatherly thing on your wedding day. If he finds Cas in here he’s gonna kick you ass. Actually, that’s an understatement.” 

“Cas?” Dean says, realization slowly dawning on his face. He looks down at the sleepy man next to him. “Fuck,” He says, almost affectionately. 

When his eyes dart back to Sam, panic sets in and Dean leaps from the bed. “FUCK, uh, shit, we-“ 

“Dean,” Sam says calmly. “It’s okay. I don’t mind if you slept with a guy. Especially Cas, he’s cool.” He squeezes his brother’s arm and holds his gaze. “It’s really okay.” 

“Sammy, don’t use that lawyer tone of voice on me,” Dean says gruffly, but his relief is obvious in the sudden relaxation of his shoulders. “And thanks,” He adds softly, as an afterthought. 

“Dad won’t be so understanding, though. You go downstairs. Cas,” Sam turns to address Cas, who’s only just sitting up in the bed. “I’d kill some time up here if I were you. Take a shower or something.” Cas nods groggily. 

Sam turns around so Dean can get dressed. When he turns back around, Dean is leaning against the dresser and gripping the bridge of his nose. 

“I cheated on Lisa,” He confessed.   
Sam nods in empathy. “I know…” 

“What do I do? I’m supposed to marry her?” At that, Cas pulls off the sheets and crawls out of bed. 

“I think I’m going to take my shower now,” He announces. Dean looks at Cas, and something is exchanged that Sam doesn’t understand. 

“Okay, man,” Dean says softly. “You know where everything is.” 

Cas pads out the bedroom and into the bathroom. Neither Winchester speaks until they hear the shower begin to run.   “What do I do, Sammy?” Dean’s voice cracks. 

“Well, are you in love with Cas?” He asks, matter of factly. 

Dean grips his hair in frustration. “I barely know if I’m in love with LISA, dude!” 

“Okay, okay, let’s take it back a step. Is it going to happen again?” 

Dean stares blankly at his little brother. He had watched Sam grow from a scrawny kid, shoot up to an awkward teenager, and now slowly become a powerful adult. But despite Sam’s size, there was an empathy to him that Dean had never possessed; an understanding, perhaps a will to listen. That was why Dean was so convinced he would make the world’s best lawyer; his deep-rooted desire to help went far beyond the big paycheck many law students were chasing. 

“I don’t know,” He croaks. 

“Do you want it to?” Sam prods. Dean’s nod is subtle, barely a head twitch, but Sam sees it, and he understands. “Then you can’t marry her.” 

“I have to!” Panic rises in Dean’s throat, closing in around his vocal cords like lead. “I mean, she’s the perfect catch. And you said three minutes ago that Dad would murder me.” 

“Stop doing things for dad, Dean!” Sam hisses fiercely. “You are an adult, it’s time to stop worrying about making him happy. I know you’re scared, but-“ 

“I am NOT A COWARD, SAM,” Dean interrupts. 

“I know you’re not Dean, that’s not what I said!”   “Fuck off, Sam. You don’t get it.” Dean storms out of the room and pounds down the stairs. Sam stares haplessly after his brother. 

Downstairs, John has poured out three mugs of coffee and set them on the island. Dean’s had three tiny pills next to it, and Dean swallowed the painkillers eagerly. John stood by the stove with a spatula and a fry pan of eggs. 

“Morning, fruitcake,” He greets. 

“Sup, Dad,” Dean replies weakly. 

“‘Sup,’ ain’t a proper way to greet your old man, Dean. I otta whoop you for that,” John waves the spatula in Dean’s direction. “But since it’s your wedding day I won’t.” 

“Thanks,” Dean says dryly. He takes a long drink from his mug and waits for the painkillers to set it. Next to the eggs sit a pan of bacon, and the grease smell makes vile pool in the back of his throat. 

“Can’t believe my son’s getting married. Never thought you’d get a catch like Lisa. Never. She’s a fantastic chick, Dean. You treat her well, ‘cause she’s slumming a bit by marrying the likes of you, and you don’t want to give her any motivation to leave.” 

“That’s incredibly disrespectful,” Sam says, reappearing from upstairs. 

“No it ain’t,” John reaches over to flip the bacon. “We always knew you’d get yourself a nice girl, you got the brains for that. Dean here only had the pretty face, and that doesn’t always guarantee a good catch.” 

“How can you say that about your own son?” Sam’s voice rises in defense of his brother. “Dean is wicked smart!” 

“Sam, stop,” Dean pleads quietly. 

“Dean got busted for stealing lunch meat once! How fuckin’ dumb do you have to be to do that? You stick it under your jacket and walk out!” John’s laugh is malicious. 

“HE WAS STEALING BECAUSE YOU WERE TOO DRUNK TO FEED YOUR DAMN KIDS,” Sam’s roar reverberates through the entire house. “He was ten, Dad! Ten! And what did he do when they caught him? He lied, and gave a fake name to save YOUR ass! Then he ran!” 

John’s cruel smile had faded into a deepest glare. He snarls, “Watch it, Sam. I’m your father. You will not raise your voice at me.” 

“I will when it’s to defend Dean, because I’m the only one in this fucking room who’s going to do it,” Sam spits back. 

“Listen boy-“ John starts. 

“ENOUGH,” Dean shouts. “That’s fucking enough. Stop fighting. Sam, sit down and eat some goddamn breakfast.” Sam’s jaw drops at Dean, incredulously at the betrayal, at Dean’s inability to defend himself. John piles eggs onto their plates and Sam shovels his back and forth. He refills the cups of coffee, and the three make their way to sit down at the table. 

John settles himself in and takes a bite of toast before directing a question at Dean. “Where’s your guest? That guy who stares at you like he’s kinda fruity?” 

“Okay, thats it,” Sam lunges across the table. He gets one punch it before John’s reflexes kick in and he hits back. The dishes fall from the table and shatter on the floor. 

Dean shouts at them to stop, and jumps in to tear the two apart. John grazes his face by mistake. He stands in front of Sam and tries to push him back. 

Altered by the smashing of dishes, Cas rushes down the stairs, hair still sopping, in nothing but a pair of boxers. He sees the commotion and rushes immediately to help Dean tear Sam away. 

John stands opposed to the three. He rests his hands on his thighs, catching his breath. “You,” He points at Sam, voice icy cold. “You’re dead to me. I don’t want to see your face again.” Out of spite, he extends and arm and shoves the remaining glasses off the table. They come crashing to the floor and John thunders out the door. 

Dean and Cas release Sam’s arms and he stays in his spot, shaking with rage. He balls his hands into fists until the skin turns white. “I fuckin’ hate him,” He growls. 

“Well you didn’t have to fuckin’ provoke him, Sam,” Dean reprimands. 

“Provoke him? Dean, were you listening?” Sam shouts back. 

“Yeah, Sam, I did! And all I saw was another unnecessary fight!” 

“I was defending you!” And Cas!” 

“And neither of us asked you do to that!” Dean yells. 

Sam stares slack-jawed and shakes his head. “Unbelievable,” He comments. “Unbelievable. You have your head so far up his ass you can’t see how abusive he is!” Sam turns on his heel and walks to the door. 

“Where are you going?” Dean calls after him. 

“I need some air!” Sam snaps. “See you at the wedding.” 

 

***    
Dean and Cas cleaned the mess up in silence. Dean collapses on the couch as Cas mops up the last of the orange juice. 

“I feel like shit,” He comments. 

“I vomited twice; once in the sink and once in the shower,” Cas explains, crashing next to Dean. Dean smirks and shakes his head. 

“Remind me to disinfect those.” 

They sit silently, both staring at the black television in front of them. Castiel’s head spins with the whirlwind of the past 24 hours: a night of binge drinking, sex with Dean, and now the Winchester family drama. 

“What are you going to do, Dean?” He asks softly. 

Dean bites his lip before slapping his thigh, and saying decisively, “I’ll tell you what I’m gonna do. I’m gonna make the greasiest fuckin’ hamburgers I know how to make, and drink an entire pot of coffee. Everything else can wait until after that.” 

***   
Dean insisted that Cas choke down as much junk food as they could cram into their stomachs, to induce any type of throwing up. “Listen, dude, if you can handle this you’re gonna be fine for the rest of the day,” He had said. Dean fried up everything that was capable of being cooked in grease: hamburgers, the remaining bacon, and some left over hash brown’s from a previous day’s breakfast. 

Dean finished his meal with a definitive smack on the table. “I think I’m gonna keep it down,” He declared, and announced that he was off to shower the previous night’s grime off. 

Castiel was not so lucky, which is why he found himself face first in the downstairs bathroom, retching over the sink. 

“That reeks,” An irritating voice chirps lightheartedly from behind. 

Cas grimaces. “Go away, Gabriel.” 

“It’s okay, baby brother, let it out,” Gabe comes up and thumps Cas on the back. “Better out than in, or so they say.” 

“What do you want?” Cas asks, refusing to meet his brother’s hazel eyes. 

“To congratulate you on a great round of fucking last night.” 

It’s this that drags Cas away from the sink. “How did you know about that?” 

“We’re angels, Cassy,” Gabe says critically. “Celestial beings, or whatever. You think we can’t tune in to see who’s humping and who’s not?” 

“I had never used my capabilities for a sex show, no,” Cas replies dryly. 

“Well thats your boring business, not mine. The point is you finally got lover boy in the sack.” 

Cas groans, “I think he’s still going to get married.” 

“WHAT?” Gabriel shouts in genuine surprise. “How the fuck can that be? You that bad in the bed?” He backtracks quickly at Castiel’s crestfallen face. “Cassy, I’m kidding. Don’t make that face, I’m joking. I’m an ass.” 

“Maybe I am!” Cas wails. “Gabe, what do I do?”   
“Have you talked to Dean about the wedding yet?” He asks. 

“No,” Cas says wearily. “I’m not even sure what I would say.” 

“Tell him not to get married, you moron. Tell him that you’re in love with him, and that you don’t want him to marry Lisa!” 

Cas nods slowly, “I suppose I have nothing to lose.” 

“Thats the spirit, jackass.” 

“You curse more when you’re being supportive, Gabriel.” 

Gabe shrugs, “It’s how I balance the sappy bullshit with my outwardly apathetic reputation. Now go!” Cas watches his brother disappear, and takes a deep breath before brushing his teeth and walking out of the bathroom. 

He walks upstairs to search for Dean, only to find an empty bathroom and bedroom. He searches the top floor, and sticks his head back in the bedroom just to be sure. 

“Dean?” He calls out tentatively, to be met by an empty house. 

Cas walks down to the kitchen, bemused. He leans against the counter, when the front door opens. “Dean?” He calls again. 

“Nope, the other one,” Sam reappears in the kitchen. 

“You’re back?” Cas asks. 

“I just needed a second to cool off. Dean text me and said he’s heading over to the hotel early. Gonna get ready there, or something.” 

“He’s at the hotel?” Cas asks, disappointment tainting his voice.   
“Yeah…” Sam pauses and evaluates Cas. “Anything happen last night you want to talk about?” Cas stays silent. 

Sam hops on the counter and sits, looking ridiculous with his long legs still almost touching the floor. “Cause you can trust me, Cas.” 

“Dean and I-“ Cas bites his tongue and looks at his feet. “Dean and I slept together.” 

“I know,” Sam repeats, slowly and sympathetically. “And now he’s about to walk down the isle.” 

“That is the problem,” Cas confirms. 

“You’re in love with him?” Sam asks, even though its not a question. 

“Yes.” 

“We’ve gotta tell him.” 

“What?” Cas says, dazed. 

“We have to tell him!” Sam hops up. “He can’t not know. What’s the worst that can happen?” 

“He marries Lisa.” 

“Well, yeah,” Sam agrees. “That’s like, worst case scenario though.” Cas stays quiet about the part where his soul burns for all eternity if Dean rejects him. 

“I didn’t expect you to be supportive,” He confessed. 

“I would do anything for Dean,” Sam explains. “And I’ve seen him happier with you the past two days then I have in a long time.” 

Cas blushes, “Thank you, Sam.” 

Sam grins and squeezes his arm. “Let’s go give Dean the chick flick moment of his dreams.” 

*** 

Castiel’s heart raced as Sam rushed them both to the Marriott. Sam skips the valet and takes them to a side parking lot, using his room key to swipe open the locked door. 

“Dean is currently in room 832, the wedding is out in the courtyard, and the reception is in ballroom 9,” Sam reads from a piece of hotel stationary. “It’s the big ass suite that all the groomsmen are getting ready in.” 

Cas stares at the bronze walls as they ride up the elevator, vile rising in his throat. His bloodless face gave cause for Sam’s alarm. “Breathe, dude.” He comforted, “Everything is going to be okay.” 

“I have bumps on my arms,” Cas comments. 

“Goosebumps, you're nervous.” 

They exit the elevator and walk down the heavily floral hallways. Sam stops outside door 832 and raises his hand to knock before opening it himself. Castiel, overcome with temporary paralysis, forces his legs to move. 

Inside, John Winchester sits at the armchair, newspaper spread over his lap. 

“Dad,” Sam says coldly. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” John snaps. Steam comes from under an adjacent door, where ACDC is blasting along with a shower. 

“Dean’s showering?” Sam asks, forcing civility. 

“What the fuck is he doing here?” John points at Cas, hatred seething in his voice. 

“He’s a part of Dean’s party,” Sam says carefully. 

“No he’s fuckin’ not, I know who he is,” John says, anger rising.

“He’s Dean’s friend from college, Dad.” 

“He’s a fucking faggot trying to ruin Dean’s life!” John shouts. “I took Dean to the bar when he got here, to make up for the fight and work out some of those pre-wedding nerves, you know.” A slimy smile spreads across John’s face, one that make’s Castiel’s already knotted stomach squirm. “Know what he told me?” 

Sam makes the subtle move to position himself in front of Cas, something that Cas himself picks up on but John is spitting too much rage to note. “Dean got drunk real fast, probably still had it in his system from the party you boys had last. Told me this slimy fuckin’ fruit sucked him off after the party.” 

Castiel’s gut drops, and the look Sam throws him screams danger. John steps closer to them, near enough to smell the whiskey on his breath. “Dean and I came back up here. I gave him a smack and told him to wipe that faggoty filth off himself and get ready for the god damn wedding. Now, Dean’s going to marry Lisa today. Hopefully she can fix this corruption you've given him.” 

“I didn’t-“ Cas protest. 

“Don’t talk to me, garbage,” John snarls. “I’m going to ask you one time to get out before I get violent.” 

Cas squares his shoulders. “I’m not leaving until I talk to Dean. Alone.” 

John appraises the man in front of him, clenching in his jaw in the same manor Cas had seen Dean do. Dean also had the same high cheekbone and deep set eyes as his father, but their similarities stopped directly below the surface. 

John reaches back, and his fist flies forward so quickly it knocks Cas off his feet. The tension in the room exploded, and John was on top of Cas kick and hitting him. Cas fights back, even in his disadvantageous position. Blood drips from John’s nose onto his face. Sam tries to pull the two apart, and John shoves him into the television. 

John grips Castiel’s coat behind his neck as drags him towards the door. He tosses Cas into the hallway, and finalizes the fight with a kick to the gut. Cas yelps, and curls around the blow. 

As Sam staggers back to his feet, John grips him and drags him towards the door, shoving him out towards Cas. The door slams in both their faces, as Cas and Sam lay heaving on the floor. 

“We got our asses kicked,” Sam is the first to speak. 

“Yes,” Cas groans, “I am not accustomed to the reflexes in this body.” 

Sam stares at him. “This body?”

Castiel’s mouth hangs open, searching for the words to do damage control to the comments he just made. As he draws back to speak, he’s interrupted by four security men round the corner. 

“Up,” One commands, as two of them grip Cas under his arms and drag him towards the elevator. The other two grab Sam and follow suit. 

“Hey, we’re not doing anything,” Sam protests. “John Winchester was the one causing a problem.” 

“We get a call from one of our guests we take care of the problem. You two are out.” 

As they reach the first floor of the hotel, the men are dragged toward the large glass door. The security guards walk them outside before letting them go. 

“You’re no longer welcome on the premise of this hotel,” One says, before they turn around and walk back inside. 

Cas turns to Sam. “What are we going to do?” 

Sam shakes his head slowly, “I don’t think Dean would get married without us there. Then again, he’s furious at me.” 

“I can help,” They whirl around at the cocky voice coming from behind them. There stands Gabriel, grinning ear to ear. “I heard you want to crash a wedding.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, as always! I'm anticipating writing two more chapters before this piece is finished. 
> 
> Please leave your comments/kudos! :)


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last chapter. Wow, thank you all so much for your kind words. It truly means so much. I'm working on the epilogue now.
> 
> Happy easter  
> xx

“You two got your asses handed to you,” Gabe laughs at them. Sam huffs defensively. “Easy tiger, don’t get your locks in a frizz.” 

“Gabe,” Cas pleads before Sam can retort. “What the hell are we going to do?” 

“Well when I was spying on you,” 

“- Which I’d like you to stop doing” 

“I started to think that if you could get Dean alone again and talk to him, I mean REALLY talk to him not beat around the bush, I think we might still be able to save this thing.” 

“That’s never going to happen his dad is watching him like a hawk,” Cas says. 

“I noticed. And his dad is an asshole, maybe bigger one than ours,” Gabe bites his tongue. 

“Who the hell are you?” Sam interrupts desperately. “What thing? Who is your dad? Why the hell do you think you can spy on us?” 

“I am Castiel’s brother, his deal with the literal King of Hell, God, and because I’m an angel of the Lord,” Gabe smirks, full of unbearable confidence. “But enough about me, handsome.” 

Sam stares dumbfounded. “What?” 

“Gabe,” Cas growls. “Be careful.” 

“What?” The angel replies, defensively. “Crowley said YOU’RE not allowed to tell them, he didn't say shit about me.” 

“I don't believe you,” Sam says, voice squeaky. “You’re insane.” 

Gabe rolls his eyes and snaps, sending a nearby tree up in flames. Sam shouts and jumps backwards. With another snap Gabe extinguishes the flames, restoring the tree to it’s original state. 

“I don’t really even need to snap,” He stage whispers. “That part is just for effect.” 

“What the fuck,” Sam whispers breathlessly. He turns to Castiel, “You’re an ANGEL?” 

“Cas, don’t answer that. You see here, my baby brother Castiel got to come for Earth for a day. He fell in love with YOUR brother, and because he’s not human he struck a deal that he would get a few extra days to make Dean-o fall in love with him, under the condition that his angel secret be kept under wraps.” Gabriel puts his hand on Sam’s shoulder and speaks very quickly. “I, on the other hand, am not a dumbass and would never strike a deal with the devil, so here I am, able to tell you whatever I want. So if Castiel’s backstory has seemed a little weird, that’s why. Your shoulders are very nice what workouts do you do?” He runs the back of his hand over Sam’s shoulder, who brushes him off. 

“So are ARE an angel?” He asks Cas again, shock raining in his voice. 

Cas stares expressionlessly. “Oh,” Gabe pipes up. “I may have forgotten to mention the part that if he tells you, deal is off and Castiel goes up in smoke, and spends eternity commanding a legion of demons in hell.” 

“You guys are lying to me,” Sam draws back. 

“Denial is one of the stages of something,” Gabe nods, pseudo-sympathetically. “But, alas, we are not lying. Want me to set something else on fire?” 

“No! No, just give me a minute to process,” Sam thumps down on the curb. Cas gives Gabe a meaningful “get lost” look. Gabe rolls his eyes and walks halfway down the block, stopping to talk to two young women. Castiel approaches Sam and sits quietly by his side. 

“I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you,” He apologizes. 

“You’re reasons were valid,” Sam laughs weakly. “I’m, uh, surprised. To say the least.” 

“That is a very common reaction.” 

Sam sighs. “I never really believed in this stuff, but I never really NOT believed in it either, you know? This is just really, uh, wow.” 

Castiel pats his hand awkwardly. “I’d encourage you to take all the time you need, but unfortunately we are on a time frame. I can offer you a few more minutes at best.” 

Sam chuckles, more genuinely this time. “No, I think I’ll be okay.” 

“I really do love your brother, Sam,” Cas says truthfully. “I’ve known it since I saw him.” 

“Love at first sight? I’ve never really bought into that either.” 

“I perceive things differently than you. I could sense Dean’s soul long before I saw his physical manifest. I saw that he was good, and faithful, and brave. I read his heart, and fell in love.” 

“Dean is a good man,” Sam agrees. “This is weird but, I dunno, I want him to be happy more than I want to not believe things like angels cant exist.” Sam rises and offers a hand to Cas. “Let’s go win you a groom.” 

“Exactly what I like to hear,” Gabe pops up behind Sam, making the younger Winchester jump and clutch at his chest. 

“Fuck!” He exhales. 

“Only if you buy me drinks first,” Gabe winks over-dramatically. He claps his hands together, “Alright! I know exactly what we’re going to do, and it’s gonna work. Are you two ready?” 

Sam raises an eyebrow, and Cas sighs. “Wow, thanks so much for the support from the Peanut Gallery,” Gabriel quips. “It’s not very elaborate, but the timing is important.”

“Go ahead,” Sam gestures for him to continue. 

“So typically the groom and the groomsmen go and wait at the alter, and I’m assuming that was the plan for this wedding. And since you two are probably groomsmen, his side is going to be looking a little barren.”

“I think Jo is technically a groomsman, but she is most definitely not up to date on current circumstances,” Sam laughs at his own joke. 

“No it’s good, this will make it easier to pull Dean away. Cassy,” He turns to his younger brother. “If I get you 5 minutes alone with Dean, can you do your thing?” 

Cas nods. 

“Excellent!” Gabe claps Cas on the arm, causing him to wince. “I’m going to get John away from Dean, but I can only guarantee five minutes. And since you jackasses got yourselves thrown out it’s going to be hard enough to sneak you in the lobby, much less upstairs. So it has to be when they’re walking from their room to the courtyard. Capeesh?” 

“I don’t really need to be there, if that makes it easier,” Sam offers helpfully. “It’s probably easier to sneak just Cas in than both of us.” 

“Good call, gigantor!” Gabe grins cheekily. “That’s what we’ll do.” 

***  
The plan was straightforward, really. Gabe was going to intersect John as he and Dean made their way to the courtyard, lying about some type of catering or guest emergency. “I’ll make it up as I go,” Gabe had commented, giving little-to-no comfort to Cas and Sam. 

The only issue was Cas sneaking into the hotel without security seeing, and since he couldn’t risk John seeing him with Gabe, Cas decided to enlist the help of Jo. 

“Aw!” Jo had squealed in an atypical, girlish fashion over the phone. “I could tell that asshole was in love with you. I’d be happy to help!” 

Which is how Cas came to be standing outside the side door of the Marriott, waiting for Jo sneak him in. He spots Jo through the glass window. Farther away, he can see the silhouette of John and Dean. Cas bounces on the balls of his feet, nervously. 

Jo lifts her hand behind her back, flashing Cas a thumbs up as Gabe approaches the two Winchesters. John crosses his arms, and after a moment of what looked like exasperated bickering, he flays his arms and follows Gabe into another corridor. 

Jo rushes to the door. “He’s alone, go now!” She hisses, and Castiel doesn’t wait a moment. “Wait here, let me get Dean.” 

Cas waits behind the corner as Jo jogs to catch Dean. Moments later, they appear, Dean rushes over to Cas and clutches his face. “Cas!” He exclaims. “What the hell happened? I couldn’t hear anything but a crash, I was in the shower. My old man said you tried to fight him?” 

Dean drops his hands from Castiel’s face, searching the blue eyes meaningfully for an answer. “But that can’t be right, can it?” He says slowly. 

“No, Dean, it’s not.” Cas turns to Jo, who was grinning foolishly at the two, giving her a purposeful look. 

“Oh!” She exclaims, catching herself. “Uh, I guess I’ll go stand watch. Give you two some privacy.

Castiel grabs the mechanic’s gruff hands in his own. “That’s not what happened with your father, but that isn't important right now. I-“ 

Blue eyes search green, in the hopes of finding adequate language. He came back with nothing. 

“You what, Cas?” Dean asks quietly. 

“I love you, Dean,” He says urgently. “I love you, and I know it is an inopportune time, and that you’re engaged, and Lisa is beautiful and intelligent, but I love you. I have seen many things in my life,” He continues, “But nothing has awakened my soul the way you have.” 

Dean stares at him blankly, mouth open. “Cas, I-“ He stutters. 

“And I would prefer you not marry Lisa,” Cas interrupts. 

“Cas…” Dean clutches at Castiel’s jacket, desperately. His voice cracks, “I can’t.” 

“You can’t?” Cas repeats blankly. Dean’s voice becomes a distant noise as his entire body turns to stone. 

“I can’t, Cas, I’m so sorry I-“ 

“DEAN!” John Winchester roared around the corner, Gabriel tearing after him like a bat out of hell. “You have a wedding to get to, son,” He says, voice icy cold and full of malice. “And you,” He turns to Cas, “Need to get out of my sight. Immediately.” 

Cas looks at Dean, waiting for a cue to stay, to confront John. Dean doesn’t move, and Castiel’s stomach falls. 

“I was just leaving,” Cas says to John. 

The tears don’t come until Cas is half way down the hall. The wet heat runs down his face as he rushes towards the back door. He hears arguing behind him, but doesn’t look back. 

He bursts outside the hotel into a side road and collapses on the curb, background noises nothing but various high pitched whines. His limbs shake as he leans over to retch on the road. He lets the bile leave the body, stomach expelling it the same way he would like to do of Dean. 

Dean. 

Cas clutches at his sides, an ill attempt to keep the physical together when his pain was internal. Not once did he ever really think Dean would say no. Even in the most gut wrenching moments of crippling doubt, Cas never thought Dean would reject him. He wouldn’t. 

He couldn’t. 

Cas stands up, legs wobbling. He had ruined everything. He had put everyone at risk, his brothers, the other angels, the Winchesters, everything. 

“You fucking idiot,” He spits at the ground, angry at no one but himself. 

“Smoke?” An adjacent voice startles him. 

“Excuse me?” Cas stutters. 

“Want a smoke, kid? Look like you could use one.” An older man with a thick gray beard extends a cigarette to Cas. Cas accepts gratefully, and uses the mans lighter to take the first drag. 

When the smoke hits his throat, Cas practically chokes up a lung. The old man chortles at his distress. “Not a big smoker than, I guess. Name’s Cain,” He extends a hand. 

Cas who had been holding himself up by way of keeping his hands on his knees, lifts one hand feebly to shake Cain’s hand. “Nice to meet you,” He coughs.

“Why do you look so sad, kid?” Cain asks, dragging on his own cigarette with ease.  
“My, um,” Cas hesitates, but ultimately decides he has nothing to lose. “The man I’m in love with is getting married.” 

“And obviously not to you,” Cain scoffs. 

“Obviously,” Cas says cooly. He snuffs out the cigarette on the hotel wall. “Well, thanks for the cigarette. I’m going to be going.” 

“No, kid wait,” Cain reaches out and grabs his arm. “I didn’t mean to be an ass, relax for one second.” 

Cas pinches the skin between his eyes and sits down on the cement curb. “I can’t relax, I’ve bet everything on this.” 

Cain appraises him. “I’m no expert, but I have been in love once. Real pretty girl, Colette. Though she’d kick my ass if she found out I described her as just being ‘pretty,’ as she should. It’s insulting. The girl was indescribable.” 

“What happened to Colette?” Cas asks quietly. 

“Doesn’t matter,” Cain huffs. “I fucked up pretty bad. It’s ancient history now.” He squats down next to Cas. “But kid, if I only had one opportunity to make it right again, there’s nothing you could do to stop me. If I were you, I’d break down that wedding door and make my voice heard until they dragged me out. Probably keep yelling, even then.” 

Cas holds Cain’s eyes until the older man stands back up. “You’re right,” He nods slowly. “You’re absolutely right. Thank you so much.” Cas hops up, energy renewed. “Thank you,” He repeats in deep sincerity. 

“Get,” Cain jerks his head at the door.

Cas lunges at the side door, rattling the handle frantically when it doesn’t open. “God dammit.” He turns back to Cain, panic rising. “It must lock automatically. But they won’t let me back through the front door!” 

Cain chuckles and draws a large, jingling key ring out of his pocket. “Lucky for you, you played nice with the right repair man.” Cain flips through the keys until he finds the right one, and turns the lock painstakingly slow to open the door. Cas bounces on the balls of his feet. When the door finally opens wide enough, Cas slips through. “Thank you!” He yells hurriedly again.

Cas races through the floral print hallways. He turns sharply at each intersection, memory serving him well. Outside the chapel doors, Gabe and Sam stand nervously. 

“Cas!” Sam chirps, spotting him first. 

Cas bypasses them, flinging the doors open. 

Castiel’s world freezes. Adrenaline courses through his veins and his heartbeat slams by his ears. In slow motion, several guests stand up. On the alter, holding hands with a white-clad Lisa, he sees Dean mouth “Cas.” 

Cas had expected his voice to be strong, cosmic, even, but when he speaks it comes out as a tired, dried out plea. 

“Stop.” 

But Dean has already dropped his finance’s hand and begun to jog down the isle. Dean doesn’t slow when he reaches Cas. Instead, he slams into the man and drags his face in for kiss. 

“Thank you,” Dean whispers. Cas rests his forehead against Dean’s by way of response. 

“Can we leave?” Cas whispers. 

“Yeah, one thing first,” Dean spins to face John, who had already begun to stride down the isle. Before John can yell, Dean draws back a fist and slams it into his father. John falls, and clutches at his quickly reddening face. “Fuck you,” Dean snarls. 

Dean clutches Castiel’s hand and pulls him out of the chapel. They pass Sam and Gabe, both beaming. They run together through the hallways and lobby and into the sunlight. They jog into the parking lot, where Dean drops Castiel’s had to search through his pockets. 

“Fuck, there- no, wait, - fuck,” He mumbles. 

“What are you looking for?” 

“Keys,” Dean grunts, pulling them triumphantly from his breast pocket. “Got ‘em.” He plants a smiling kiss on Cas. “Let’s go.” 

“Where ever you want, angel.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe i finally finished it. Enjoy all the sappiness! Again, thank you so much. Kudos and especially comments make me smile like an idiot. The epilogue will wrap up the lose ends, and naturally have a gratuitous sex scene. 
> 
> xx


	12. Epilogue

They sit on the trunk of Baby, a thick blanket resting over both their legs.

It had been nearly two weeks since the wedding. Once they had hijacked the Impala, Dean and Cas drove west to California, and then up the pacific coast until they reached Anchorage. Cas wanted to show Dean the Northern Lights. 

Nothing extraordinary had happened when Castiel’s time expired. No cosmic flare, no ground moving earthquake. He had slowly watched the time click forward on Baby’s dashboard. One moment he was an angel, the next human. 

Once that moment passed, Cas filled Dean in on everything. Cas updated him about the day on Earth, and how fateful it was to land in middle-of-no-where-America. About the deal, and how he had struggled so much to let Dean see who he was without revealing his secret. 

When he had finished explaining, Cas looked anxiously at Dean for a reaction. Dean shook his head slowly. “Can’t believe angels are fuckin’ real,” He had said. Cas laughed, and breathed a long held sigh of relief. 

Somewhere in California, Dean got so trusted with his phone constantly ringing, he had pulled Baby over and hurled his phone as hard as he could in the Pacific. “For now, everyone else can wait,” He said. Cas pulled Dean into the back seat to show how truly good it was for Dean to give him his undivided attention. 

“C’mere,” Dean grunts, jerking Cas into the present. Dean draws him closer under the blanket. He cups Castiel’s cheek and leans in for a slow kiss. Cas wraps his arms around Dean’s neck, and shifts to sit on his lap. He grinds his hips into Dean, who lets out a low chuckle. 

“Think we might have to go back to the cabin first, angel,” Dean pulls his lips off Castiel’s. 

Cas pouts, “It’s not that cold, Dean. Besides,” He begins to kiss down Dean’s neck, “I can think of some ways to warm you up.” 

“Show me,” Dean teases, as Cas moves down from his neck to his chest. Cas plants sloppy kisses down Dean’s torso, sucking and nipping at the skin as he goes. Dean stretches to give Cas more access. Dean bites his lip when Cas unlatches his belt buckle, and runs a tongue across the sensitive skin just above his waistline. 

Dean lifts his hips for Cas to pull off his jeans. Cas reaches into his boxers, and pulls out his quickly-hardening cock. 

Cas doesn’t waste time, and swallows it whole. Dean throws back his head with a moan. “Love it when you do that,” He mumbles. 

Cas looks up, blue eyes tantalizing. “I know.” 

Dean quickly grows hard and Cas slips a finger in. Dean wiggles around him happily, still loose from their morning romp. Cas reaches into his jacket pocket and fumbles to uncap the bottle of lube, which he had taken to carrying around on his person. 

“You’re gonna drop that in front of someone,” Dean tells him. 

“Better than having to go back to the car every time I want you,” Cas explains as he slick himself up. He slides two fingers in Dean before pressing the head of his cock against Dean’s ass, and sliding in easily. 

Dean moans. Cas leans into Dean and thrusts quickly, his breath wet and heavy on Dean’s neck. Cas wraps his hand with the remaining lube around Dean’s cock, and jerks him off in rhythm with his hips. 

“Wanna cum in your mouth,” Dean grunts, and Cas responds with a heavy kiss. He keeps his lips on Dean’s while his hips grow erratic. Cas finishes in Dean with several long thrusts. 

Cas pulls out quickly and moves to Dean’s cock, where he massages his lips from the head down. When Dean’s cock hits the back of Castiel’s throat, he comes with loud whimper.   
Cas crawls up and collapses on the Impala next to Dean. Their sporadic quickies had become a fast-formed habit. 

As Cas catches his breath, Dean looks over at him affectionately. “I love you,” He whispers. 

Cas leans over and presses a tender kiss to his lips. “And I love you.”


End file.
